


Me and You and Everyone We Know

by Sans_Sebastian



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, And of course Dickfetti, Eventual Smut, F/F, Inappropriate shenanigans, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-04
Updated: 2016-05-04
Packaged: 2018-03-16 09:26:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 46,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3482996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sans_Sebastian/pseuds/Sans_Sebastian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The best way to get over someone, is to get under someone else… Apparently.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I Know It's Over

“I trust everything has been divided up fairly?” I ask, sitting down on the edge of the bed among the stacks of neatly folded clothing. Keeping my gaze forwards, I espy the beautiful blond young man on the floor beside the bed; he pushes a full box in front of him, finishing with it.

 “I told you it was,” he replies plainly, pulling an empty box to him unfolding the flaps.

“You don’t have to go,” I mutter.

“Yeah Ciel, I do.”

This is Finnian, my soon to be ex-boyfriend. We were with each other for three years but living together for the last two. He’s already packed up and moved out the majority of his things, what surrounds me on the bed is the last of it.

Pinching the bridge of my nose I let out a heavy sigh. There’s nothing I can do to make him stay. I’ve already tried. I begged, pleaded and attempted to apologise many times but my words only fell on deaf ears. I still can’t believe it’s actually come to this as I sit back and watch him sever his ties to me, neatly packing it all up and splitting it into boxes.

“Finny, please?” I whisper a soft plea, something to get his attention as I keep my eye cast down. Finnian moves the box to the side and runs a hand across his forehead smoothing out any stray hairs. Pushing himself up from the ground with a little stagger he comes over to me.

“You promised you wouldn’t make this hard,” he says moving just beside me.

“I’m not trying to make this hard,” I maintain, observing him out of the corner of my eye.

Bending over, he collects a stack of sweaters.

“If you’re not trying to make this hard, then what are you doing?” He sighs, putting the sweaters in a nearby box.

“What can I do to make you stay?”

“Nothing, there’s nothing you can do,” he stops for a moment, holding out a forest green chunky knit sweater. I gave it to him for Christmas last year, it’s Armani, not that it matters to him. Finnian isn’t into labels, he never cares about status or wealth, it isn’t important to him, not like it is to me.

“I gave you that sweater, remember?” I mention, watching a small smile creep onto his lips as blue eyes regard it.

“I remember,” he nods, “that was a good year.”

“I don’t really recollect much of it.”

“Spring came early and we spent most of our free time outdoors,” he says with a twinge of sadness in his voice. This must be something he would rather forget I suppose; I mean, why remember the good times when you’re leaving because of all the bad?

I can’t think of anything to say so I nod and mumble, “oh.” 

Clutching the sweater to his chest, Finnian thinks to himself for a moment.

“You can have it back if you want?” He offers, eyes never venturing over to me.

I shake my head, “I gave it to you, I want you to have it.”

“Thanks,” he replies, refolding the sweater and laying it down in the box.

“Who’s going to watch The Rowdy Count with me?” I add. It’s been our thing since the programme started, every Thursday night at eight; we’d cuddle together on the couch and watch it on BBC Four.

“You’ll find someone, ask Lizzie or Alois, I’m sure they’ll watch it with you,” he answers.

“But they won’t sleep with me at night. You know how I hate to sleep alone,” I don’t mean to sound pathetic but I never could sleep by myself.

“I’ve told you many times, you really need to see someone about your nightmares,” he points out.

“Maybe I should do that,” I concur, realising I’m not going to get anywhere with him. 

We both go silent as he finishes collecting the last pieces of clothing from the bed, putting them into boxes and sealing it up. I guess this really is happening; he’s seriously going. We’ve had rows in the past and our relationship has been tumultuous, even on the best of days, but I never thought there would come a time when he would leave me.

Resting my hands on my lap, I lace my fingers together staring at my palms. Sighing quietly, I let him get on with it, if he wishes to leave me, if I make him so miserable, I may as well let him go. My eye burns with each blink and my chest feels so constricted but I don’t cry and I only breathe out to ease the pain. I can’t cry in front of him, I refuse to. I don’t want him to know how much this hurts or the sadness I feel. I haven’t the right to be sad in front of him because this is all my fault, I know I must have put him through hell.

Taping up the last box Finnian steps back to look at the neatly lined up stacks.

“I’ll take what I can now and get the rest later; I’ll let you know when after I get settled.”

“Fine,” I half-heartedly agree, keeping my eye on my hands refusing to look at him.

“Despite what you might think, I’m not doing this to hurt you, I really do love you Ciel,” he says, although I wish he didn’t bother mentioning it. I know it was meant to soothe but it stings like salt in an open wound.

“If you love me why are you going?”

Coming over to me, Finnian leans over and rests his hands on my shoulders.

“Love isn’t enough here. You place value in money and status, something I could never offer,” he states very matter of fact. My eye looks up to him and he smiles. “You’ve changed but I haven’t so you’ve tried to make me into someone else, someone more acceptable to you.”

“That’s not true,” I protest but he shakes his head.

“You want a different version of me, something I can never live up to,” he concludes.

“I want you.”

He plants a gentle kiss on the top of my head, “no, you don’t.”

His hands slip off of my shoulders as he goes over to a stack of boxes, picking them up. He’s always been so strong I note fondly, my head following him to the door.

“Do you need any help?” I suggest, not that I would be of any use.

“You can barely open a jar,” he smiles at me over his shoulder.

“How will I survive without you?”

“You’ll learn,” he shrugs finally leaving the room.

 …

Pushing myself into the corner of the couch, I draw my knees up to my chest wrapping my arms around them. Resting my chin on my knees, I flick through the various channels on the television in an attempt to try and find something to watch. It’s almost eight on a Thursday night, nearly time for my favourite programme The Rowdy Count but I can’t bring myself to watch it.

It’s been two weeks since Finnian moved out.

The flat is cold and empty. I never realized how much warmth he brought to the place but I certainly miss it now he’s gone. To be honest I’m surprised I’m even home, as I usually prefer to stay away as long as I can. I don’t do anything special, just stay at the office but loneliness has made me extraordinarily efficient, which leaves me with less and less to do. There weren’t a lot of things in this flat, and most were Finnians’. He had all sorts of items and knick-knacks that I tolerated scattered about, bird figurines mostly. I hated those hideous little things but now they’re something I long to see. Finnian had a lot of _things_ , shells he collected from the beaches we’d visit, framed pressed leaves and flowers from the parks we’d sit in, other random items which meant nothing to me but he treasured every last one. I used to make fun at his childlike enthusiasm over the littlest things and the way he viewed the world with bright open eyes. I suppose I was jealous of him, I could never see the world the way he did or understand how the smallest of things had meaning. He tried to share his world with me but it always annoyed me, preferring to the reality of the situation rather than its beauty. Sometimes I wished he would just leave me alone and now that he actually has, I wish I never made the first wish at all.

I miss him, more than I thought I would but I do. What do I do now?

Finnian was my first boyfriend and first actual attempt at living a normal life. We met at school, I saw him sitting by a tree during lunch; he looked so resplendent, golden blond hair shining in the sun, birds singing around him and such a peaceful look on his face. He was the light, whereas I lived in the dark. I didn’t have a bad life, just a sad one. I was born into a life of privilege, however, my parents died when I was ten causing me to live with my aunt. Distancing myself from everyone I purposefully chose not to make friends. The only people who managed to tolerate me was my cousin Lizzie and best friend Alois, both invited themselves into my life, leaving me with little choice in the matter. Although, the moment I saw Finnian, I knew I wanted to be in his light. I wanted to know what his warmth would feel like and when I found out, it was like the sun.

He’s right, I have changed but I was never really me to begin with. I kept that hidden from him, this darkness and sadness within me. I wanted to be a part of his light so badly; I was willing to change almost everything just to stand in it. However, I have now grown older; I see the way of the world and how it works. It moves with money, it speaks with money and with money comes power; I have an abundance of both.

I no longer wanted the light, I wanted status. I worked hard to get where I am and stepped on everyone I could to get here.

In retrospect, my ruthlessness was a step too far for the boy who burned like the sun. He tolerated an awful lot but I suppose this was bound to happen sooner or later. In a way, I guess I’m glad it happened sooner.

I’m sorry Finny; it really is all my fault.

Groaning at the lack of substance on the telly, I give up trying to find anything, switching it off and tossing the remote to the side. I feel like I should do something but I can’t think of what or muster up the energy to move from this spot. Maybe I should make a cup of tea? Or perhaps I should drag myself to bed. I’m so tried I could sleep forever.

However, I find myself still unable to gather any will to move so I stay put on the couch and enjoy the one-man pity party I’m throwing.

The doorbell rings but I ignore it. Whoever it is can go away, I cannot deal with seeing anyone right now. 

“Did you forget I have a key?” Alois shouts from the other side as though he read my mind. 

Actually, I did forget. Damn it. 

“You may as well come in,” I call back. Telling him to piss off wouldn’t make a difference anyway.

The brittle clank of metal keys hitting the door sounds out before the handle turns. Footsteps march down the hallway with purpose and find themselves by the entrance to the sitting room. A mop of blond hair peeks around the corner with blue eyes landing on me.

“Jesus, you look like shit,” he sighs walking into the room.

“Ta very much,” I snort. I haven’t checked a mirror recently but he’s probably right. I haven’t slept well since Finnian left, I’m sure that’s left its mark on me in some way.

“You haven’t been eating, have you?”

“Finny did all the cooking,” I reply.

“And you couldn’t get a take away?”

“What are you doing here?” I frown, burying my face into the gap between my knees.

 Standing in front of me Alois starts to unbutton his coat.

“Lizzie and I have been worried about you,” he says calmly, flicking open his last button.

“Well, as you can see, I’m still alive so I’m fine.”

“We haven’t seen you in a while,” he smiles, resting his hands on his hips.

Alois and I have been friends for what feels like forever. We are complete opposites in almost every way. I’m more of a logical thinker who prefers to be stoic rather than display all of my emotions. He’s a free spirit with the emotional temperament of a toddler at times, stropping when he doesn’t get his way. I’m unsure how we became friends but I think it boiled down to us either being the very best of friends or the worst of enemies, which no doubt would lead to us killing each other. We agreed it would be best if we were friends. 

“Well, you’ve seen me now so you can go.”

“What’s with the attitude? I just came to check on you,” he pouts.

“You needn’t have bothered,” I dismiss him with a snarky remark. Furrowing his brow and drumming his fingers along his sides, he grins at me.

“You’re going about this break up all wrong.”

“Says who?”

“You know what you need? You need to go out on the piss.”

“You know that really isn’t for me,” I grumble into my knees.

“Right, that’s it, get up!” he snaps, pulling my arms and lifting me to my feet.

“Hey, let go!” I shout, yanking my arms from his grip and falling back against the armrest of the couch. Hissing in pain, I rub my back as Alois bends over, planting his hands on either side of me.

“It’s been two weeks, you’ve been feeling sorry for yourself for far too long.”

“What do you know? You’ve never been in a long term relationship with anyone other than yourself,” I retort.

“I’ve been your friend for seven years, which makes you the longest relationship I’ve ever had so get up, we’re going out.”

“I don’t want to,” I mumble.

“That’s too bad cause we are,” he pulls at me again bringing me forwards. “The best way to get over someone is to get under someone else,” he finishes with a wink. The gospel according to Alois, everyone.

“I want to be left alone.”

“I have left you alone for two weeks, now get the fuck up, we’re leaving.”

I can see the determination in his face and if I continue to refuse it will only lead to a fight I’m sure I don’t have the energy for. Alois is a dog with a bone when it comes to arguing and I’ll only end up losing so I may as well speed up the process. 

“Fine, whatever,” I concede, pushing myself up from the couch and past him. Straightening up I pull down my cardigan and run a hand through my hair. A broad smile stretches across his lips as he takes my hand into his.

“Let’s get you dressed,” he decides.

“I am dressed.”

“Not for where we’re going,” he grins, hauling me down the hall in the direction of my bedroom.

Damn it, perhaps I should have just fought with him instead.

 


	2. I Wanna Take You To A Gay Bar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hey, you wanna play a game called Titanic?”

“Alois, where are we going?”

“You’ll see,” he sings his response with an ever present grin on his face. The more he smiles, the more I start to get worried. Alois’ choices in bars are like his choices in men, dubious and questionable at best.

Trudging through the crowded streets of Soho we walk hand in hand down Old Compton Street. It’s a little misty out, the rain has finally let up but there’s still dampness in the air. Not to mention, I’m not dressed for this weather; Alois fussed over every detail of my outfit before we headed out the door. Faded black skinny jeans which are snug around my hips, a fitted light blue check shirt with sleeves rolled up to my elbows and a constricting grey waistcoat. I’m cold but apparently being fashionable and trendy means not wearing a coat, besides, the real point of this outfit is to show off my body. I’m advertising to the masses, showing them I’m out looking for a good time, when in fact all I want is a cup of tea, my bed and sleep.

Pulling me along, we weave through the tourists who are unsure of which club to go into and the regulars who spill out of the pubs onto the kerb to smoke their cigarettes, all huddled together for warmth. As we pass the normal venues Alois usually frequents, I start to wonder just where the hell he’s taking me.

“Are we there yet?” I ask, struggling to keep up with his fast strides.

“Close,” he smiles. The ever-present grin is turning into a devious glint in his eyes as he drags me across the street.

Approaching the corner, it quickly becomes apparent where we’re headed and I dig my heels into the pavement to stop.

“No,” I grimace and snatch my hand back from him.

“What’s the matter?” He feigns confusion, quite unconvincingly I might add.

“I am not going to G-A-Y.”

“What’s wrong with it?”

“Where do I begin?”

“You don’t want to be caught dead in a camptastic place like that because it would offend your posh Oxbridge sensibilities, is that what you mean?”

“You put it in a more elegant way than I ever could,” I smirk not wanting to disagree. It’s full of everything I loathe, horrible venue, even worse music and the disgraceful behaviour of its patrons; I’d rather have a root canal without local anaesthetic.

Folding his arms across his chest Alois stamps his foot down as his bottom lip protrudes in a pout.

“You never want to go where I want to.”

“You never chose good places!”

“That’s not true,” he defends but I think he knows he didn’t have a leg to stand on.

Alois grabs my arm squeezing it firmly, tugging me towards him. Stumbling a bit I try to pull it back but admittedly, he’s a lot stronger than me.

“You’re coming so stop bitching and let’s go,” he growls and I obey, following behind him as he hauls me down the street towards the club. Keeping my head down out of fear of the rare possibility of being recognized, I focus on my footsteps as the vibration of music pumping through the speakers shakes the ground like a quake.

We pass a fog provided by the outside smokers; I swallow a gulp of smoke and cough as it burns my lungs, causing me to collide into one of them, the action tripping me up. I see a pair of scuffed black matt Doc Martins step back against the wall as Alois brings me closer to his side.

“Excuse you,” a voice snorts at me.

“Sorry mate,” I mutter a reply with my head down, passing him to get to the door.

The beat of excessive bass is oppressive as we make our way through the foyer. A young man in tight cut-off shorts with a frayed hem just underneath his ass cheeks slaps a wristband on us and we’re free to go inside.

This is my definition of Hell.

Coloured lights refract from a giant mirror ball, which hangs from the ceiling, bouncing the glittering light over the inebriated sweaty bodies being taken over by the infectious rhythm of the music. This isn’t to my taste I prefer Chopin over whatever Top 40 remix this is.

Linking his arm in mine Alois escorts me to the bar along the side. Weaselling his way between two sweaty men twice his height he drapes himself over the top, catching the eye of a tall brown haired bartender in a tight white t-shirt. Wiggling his index finger, he beckons him over. 

“What do you want?” Alois asks me over his shoulder. Dark eyes flick up at me, studying me as I think about my decision. After he finishes assessing me, the bartender licks his lips, smiles and bends towards me.

“Well, what can I get you gorgeous?” He coos. Gross, is he flirting with me?

“Vodka orange,” I answer plainly unwilling to play this game. Alois’ head snaps to me with a frown on his face as he mouths ‘what is wrong with you?’ I shrug and turn around, resting my back against the edge of the bar. I don’t care to flirt, I don’t care to interact and I don’t care about being here.

After ordering his drink and peeling his eyes away from the bartenders’ ass, Alois pushes his shoulder into my side.

“You never did tell me what happened,” he mentions, dragging index finger along black rubber drying mat inlay.

“Apparently, I’ve changed,” I respond.

“Have you? I hadn’t noticed.”

“Do you think I’m too materialistic?”

“Yes,” he answers flatly and I turn to him, “I didn’t say it was a bad thing,” he contends after reading the look on my face.

“What is it then?”

“It’s just how you are,” he shrugs one shoulder, tuning back around and running his finger over the mat. “You’re not the most emotional of people; tending to keep a lot to yourself but I’m used to it, it’s how you’ve always been.”

The bartender returns with my drink in a tall glass and four shots of whatever Alois ordered.

“What’d you get?”

“Jaegerbombs!” He declares shooting them one by one and shaking his hips to the beat of whatever song is oozing out of the sound system. I follow suit and chug down my drink, Alois watches me, completely amused at my first attempt to get pissed. Waving the bartender back Alois motions for another round, slamming a tenner down on the sticky surface.

“Are you mad?” He wonders, keeping his head forwards.

“No, it’s the truth isn’t it?”

He didn’t reply but then again he didn’t have to, I already know.

Another round of drinks and a borrowed Jaegerbomb from Alois later, I am starting to feel good. By the fourth round Alois grabs my wrist and pulls me upstairs to another room. The music is different here, not the typical pop fare we were bombarded with downstairs. We both nod our heads to the music but I don’t feel like dancing. Observing Alois out of the corner of my eye I watch as he scans the room. He has a particular gift for hunting out prey, someone he’ll snare and take home for the night. It looks like he’s found him. There are three men grouped together by the DJ booth. They stand out, even more so than I do, all dressed in black as though they’d come from a funeral. Alois’ gaze lands on a tall wavy black haired man with thick-rimmed glasses. Licking his lips his eyes leisurely trail up and down this mans’ body. I guess I’m on my own for the rest of the night.

“I’m gonna get my dance on,” he grins, leaving me and sauntering over to the tall man with glasses.

Tapping his shoulder, Alois gets his attention and without taking no for an answer, he drags him to the middle of the dance floor. The man frowns, looking at the blond curiously but Alois wraps his arm around his waist and brings him into him moving both of their hips to the beat. Chuckling and shaking my head, I continue to watch as Alois tries to seduce this poor man.

“Your mate’s got skill,” someone mentions from beside me. My gaze moves from Alois to the ground and I see his boots. The same scuffed matt black Doc Martins’ from outside. Travelling up the skin-tight black jeans to his torso, which is clad in a fitted black t-shirt leaving little to the imagination. He is muscular but not in a way that’s intimidating or over the top, just refined and toned. His arms were covered in fishnet, which stopped above his elbow and he wore a long black pashmina scarf circled loosely around his neck. From there, my eye goes to his face and I’m instantly taken aback. Impressive facial structure, high cheek bones and strong jaw line. His skin is white, which punctuates the colour of his black kohl lined ruddy brown eyes, all rounded off with his choppy black hair framing his face so perfectly.

“Yeah, he does possess a particular, talent,” I respond, our eyes remaining locked on each other. He smiles, leaning towards me.

“Hey, you wanna play a game called Titanic?”

“What’s that?”

“The rules are simple, when I say iceberg, you go down,” he grins. Blinking, completely amazed by the audacity of his comment I let out a derisive snort.

“Does that line actually work on anyone?”

He shrugs, “sometimes.”

“Well not on me,” I sneer pushing past him.

“No, wait,” he calls after me, “it was a terrible joke.”

“Too bloody right mate,” I scoff, twisting back to him, crossing my arms.

“Let’s try this again,” he begins holding out his hand. “I’m Sebastian,” he introduces. I look at his hand but don’t take it keeping my arms firmly around me. “Do you have a name?”

“No,” I retort.

“Oh come on, I’m sorry for the joke.”

“You said.”

“Then why can’t we be friendly? Our friends are getting along, shouldn’t we?”

“I’m not looking for a friend,” I riposte sharply, his eyes lower as he moves closer to me. Even though this place is packed with sweaty bodies and spilt alcohol I can still smell him, this warming cinnamon scent permeates from his skin and he smells delicious.

“Then what are you looking for?”

“To go home,” I shoot him down, sidestepping towards the exit but he follows me.

“What’s the rush? The night’s young.”

Rolling my eye and emitting a groan, I spin around on my heels to face him.

“Since you asked, I just came out of a long term relationship with the only person who ever loved me but didn’t love who I’ve become so he dumped me. The two friends I do have think I’m emotionally repressed and materialistic, which is something I found out about twenty minutes ago. All I want to do is go home, take a long hard look at myself and sleep until I’m dead. So, I’m not looking for anything, friends or whatever,” I blurt out before I start marching towards the exit. Stopping, I whip back around to him, “and even if I was, you’re not even close to being my type.”

I have never been known to go for the seemingly unwashed Goth travesty he appears to be, preferring my men to be more of a cleaner cut. Sebastian smirks running a hand through his inky black hair, even his fingernails are painted black, definitely not for me.

“I’m not your type? Why’s that?”

“Seriously?” My tone is caustic and delivered with an arched brow.

“No really, I wanna know. I’m tall, dark and devilishly handsome, which makes me everyone’s type.”

“Wow, could you be more full of yourself?”

“Give me a minute; I’m sure I can be,” he replies.

I can’t help but smirk, the nerve of this guy is astounding.

“It’s your whole look,” I explain waving my hand in front of him, “I’m not into whatever this is.”

“Please, I look fantastic, you’re the one who looks uncomfortable,” he retorts.

“My friend dressed me, this isn’t what I usually like to go out in,” I reply honestly.

“So, this isn’t what you normally look like?”

I shake my head, “not really, no.”

“Then what are you normally like?”

What an odd question.

He didn’t ask what I normally dress like or look like; he asked what I am like. Why?

“What do you mean?”

“You’re guarded up so tight; I just figured it was a defence mechanism. So, I want to know what you’re normally like, who are you?”

“I don’t know anymore,” I confess, my mouth charging ahead before my mind can catch up.

“Don’t you think it’s time you find out?”

“I wouldn’t even begin to know how,” I sigh. I’m being oddly confessional with this Goth travesty of a man. Perhaps I’m tried or more likely, buzzed from the vodka oranges but there’s something oddly comforting about Sebastian. Taking another step to me he tilts his head to the side as he regards me. I feel a sharp shiver run up my spine, I don’t know if it’s how close he is to me, or what, but I’m frozen to the spot.

“There’s a club night at Slaughterhouse-Five on Saturday, come with me,” he invites me with a smile, “you can even bring your friend,” his head motions to Alois who’s now grinding against his prey for the night.

“No thanks, I’d rather not.”

“What, go out with me or bring your friend?”

“Both,” I grin.

“What do you have to lose? Come on, do something different for once.”

His velvety voice is hypnotic because I want to say no and leave but I can’t seem to get the words out. He’s intoxicating, from his demeanour to his voice, it must be the drink, no, it’s definitely the drink but I can’t seem to say no to him.

“All right but as long as I can bring friends,” I concede, well that is definitely not what I was trying to say.

“Bring as many as you like, I’ll put your name on the list,” he agrees.

“You know, I’ve never had to work so hard for someone to agree to go out with me before, most people tend to fall for the bad boy.”

“I am not most people.”

His eyes lower as he eyes me, “no, that you are not,” Sebastian pauses for a moment and he bends over to my ear. “Are you ever going to tell me your name?”

“Ciel,” I answer, damn it, my mouth is working against me.

“And are you going to give me your number?” His smooth soft voice purrs in my ear.

I hold out my hand and he fishes in his back pocket, pulling out his mobile. After unlocking it, Sebastian places it in my palm. Sighing, I type in my number and save, handing it back to him.

Looking over to Alois, I can see he’s completely forgotten about me. I may as well leave before my mouth agrees to anything else.

“If they ever come up for air, let the blond know I left.”

“You’re leaving?”

“I’m tried and all I want is a hot bath,” I groan.

“Do you feel like company? I know a way to make that bath even hotter,” his vulpine smile makes sure I know what he is alluding to. My whole body shivers, perhaps Alois is right and I should take someone home with me. I’ve never been adventurous before and it is just for the night, right? Where’s the harm in that? I smile back at Sebastian, tossing my head to the side as I lean in close.

“Nice try,” I smirk, my mouth finally coming back under my control.

I turn and make my way to the exit.

“See you Saturday,” he calls after me and I nod an acknowledgement, rounding the corner and bolting down the stairs but when I get to the bottom, I stop.

Wait, what did I just agree to?


	3. I Need Your Arms Around Me, I Need To Feel Your Touch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Attitude check!"

What am I doing?

It's eight o'clock on a Saturday night, I'm in the middle of Camden, heading to a place I've never heard of to meet a man I made the acquaintance of not forty-eight hours ago. Popping the collar of my navy blue double-breasted coat to keep my neck warm, I make my way down the street towards the club. My nerves are shot, I'm a wreck and unsure of the fresh hell I've gotten myself into. How the hell _did_ I get talked into this? Alois, that's how. Apparently his new acquaintance Claude is also coming tonight with a few friends. To even out the numbers Alois invited Lizzie and Sieglinde to come as well.

I'm really not up for this but if I didn't come, God knows what kind of guilt riddled torment I'd get from both he and Lizzie.

Rounding the corner, I catch sight of the patrons mingling about outside waiting to get in. To be honest, the diversity of the crowd surprises me. There are people in head to toe leather, retro Rockabilly's, neon adorned cyber Goths, and even some black clad hipsters all waiting to get in. At least I don't feel so out of place in the same black skinny jeans from the other night, white shirt, black tie and cardigan combination. Scanning the queue, something flickers in the corner of my eye. It's Alois frantically waving to get my attention. He's in black jeans, which look as though they've been fed through a shredder, a shirt that's too tight and what's going on with all of the studded belts hanging off his waist?

"You made it!"

"I did," I say on a sigh and looking around, "where's Lizzie and Sieglinde?"

"Claude got us in early, how cool is that?" He enthuses, linking his arm into mine.

"Is that kind of thing cool?" I remark sardonically.

"Don't be a bitch," he scoffs.

As he escorts me to the door we bypass those still waiting in the queue. We stop at the barrier, standing in front of a burly security guard. Alois cocks his hip out waiting to be noticed but we're kept waiting.

"There's the queue," the security guard finally says pointing to the side, not bothering to look at us.

"So it is," Alois notes with a hint of sarcasm, "we're with Claude Faustus and Sebastian Michaelis."

The security guard gives us the once over and sighs, "names?"

"Ciel Phantomhive and Alois Trancy," he states.

Running his finger over the list he finds our names. Without saying a word he unhooks the clasp of the black velvet divide and lets us pass, much to the derisive snorts of the other patrons who are forced to keep waiting.

"What kind of club night is this?" I wonder, looking at the various posters plastered on the walls of the corridor.

"No idea," Alois shrugs, "Claude wouldn't say but it'll be fun whatever," he concludes. Well, I'm glad someone has faith.

Getting to the cloakroom area I shrug off my coat, handing it to the tightly corseted woman behind the counter. She passes me a numbered tag, which I slip into my pocket as Alois shuffles me to the end of the corridor, stopping in front of a heavy looking black velvet curtain. Pulling it back, he motions me to go through.

The venue is larger on the inside than it appears from the outside with a stage at the back. Everything is unsurprisingly black, from the vinyl flooring to the square pillars and black felt fleur de lis wallpaper. There are even huge draping black crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling with dimly lit frosted glass pointed bulbs. This place isn't so bad, there's a decadent Gothic feel to it, which I can appreciate, and no mirror ball to be seen.

Grabbing my wrist Alois drags me over to the bar. In keeping with the theme, it's also quite chic. Black glass panelling along the bottom, a variety of spirits at the back and black crystal candelabras with partially melted red candles scattered around. I see Lizzie and Sieglinde at the end giggling, talking to people I recognise as the blokes from the other night at G-A-Y. They fit in more here than they did there. Scanning the empty room, I realise Sebastian's nowhere to be seen. My face fights hard to not show the disappointment I so obviously feel at the fact he's not here. Not that I'm interested to see him again and I'm not, I just thought he'd be here, especially as he asked me to come.

"Where, uh, where is Sebastian?" I ask, trying to keep my tone nonchalant.

"He said he had to do something, he should be back soon though," Alois answers, taking me over to the group. Before I have the chance to stop a streak of blonde dressed in black comes hurtling towards me and I brace myself for impact.

"Ciel!" Lizzie calls out before she throws her arms around my neck. "Where on Earth have you been?"

"My flat?" I reply between gasps of breath. Her version of affection borders grievous bodily harm. Pulling back, Lizzie holds me out by my shoulders. Green eyes run the length of my body and lower when they settle back on my face.

"You look better than I thought," she surmises.

"Thank you?" I'm sure there was a compliment in there somewhere.

"Hey there little gnome," an accented voice greets me from behind Lizzie. Looking around her, I see Sieglinde in a fluffy dark green dress perched on top of a black lacquered barstool. Smiling with her whole face, she excitedly waves me over. Leaning in to kiss her on each cheek, she reaches underneath and grabs my crotch, squeezing it tightly. Yelping, I jump back. "Glad to see you're still a male," she smirks.

"What is wrong with you?" I growl, adjusting my trousers.

"Oh Sieg, don't torment him," Lizzie simpers, handing her a pint of dark beer. Sieglinde giggles taking the glass into both hands, resting it on her lap and kicking her legs out like a gleeful child.

"I would not tease the little gnome if it did not amuse me so much," she grins.

"I'm taller than you!" I protest. Drawing the pint glass to her lips she lets out a little snort into the head.

"True but you are smaller than most men," she teases, taking another sip.

I scowl at her statement, this is as tall as I'm going to get. I had a growth spurt but it didn't make much of a difference as I stand at a meagre one hundred and seventy centimetres tall.

"Whatever, just stop assaulting me!"

Chuckling, she simply shrugs her shoulders at my request and I know I'm going to be ignored.

I met Sieglinde whilst doing a term abroad in Germany. We were introduced at a party; she violated me then too, drunkenly grabbing my crotch to prove I was really a man despite my effeminate face, or so she says. Strangely, we became friends, even though she makes harassing me an Olympic sport.

"Is this him?" A voice enquires. Twisting around, I see the tall black haired man with glasses from the other night. Alois appears from behind him with a huge smile on his face.

"Claude, this is Ciel," he introduces us.

"It's nice to meet you," I smile, holding out my hand and he accepts it, shaking it firmly.

"Likewise," he replies flatly. Well then.

"You're Ciel?" A gruff voice speculates to my right.

"Ah Bard, this is Ciel," Claude presents us.

"It's nice to meet you," I hold out my hand. His eyes dart from my hand to Claude.

"Is he for real?" He asks in disbelief.

"Just shake his fucking hand Bard," Claude wearily sighs, as he pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

"Yeah sure," he chuckles, taking my hand and shaking it firmly. _Well then._

"Drossel's around here somewhere," Alois mumbles, more to himself than me, "let me see if I can find him, Claude?" He smiles, takes his hand and pulls him into the crowd. Thank God for that.

With the introductions, I don't realise the place is starting to fill up. I glance over to Lizzie and Sieglinde, who are currently preoccupied giggling at whatever Bard keeps whispering in their ears. Little does he realise, it's a lost cause. I may as well get a drink; it looks to be a long night.

Finding a free place, I lean over the bar to catch the bartenders' attention. She comes over, I order my drink and wait. Picking up a beer mat and tapping the corner down on the wood, I groan, already feeling completely exhausted and the night has only begun. What am I doing here? Exhaling and closing my eye, I shake my head; I'd rather be in bed with a book and cup of tea.

"You made it," Sebastians' velvety voice coos in my ear. Dropping the mat and shifting to the side I face him. He looks a little different from the night before but not by much. Same skinny jeans and boots, fitted black shirt with the top two buttons undone, leather cuffs on his wrist, smoky black eyeliner and curiously, a rosary dangling from his neck. He is handsome; I'll give him that. It's sort of chic in a dark way, he wears it well but it's still not for me.

"What's with the rosary?" I ask. You kept me waiting, so no need for pleasantries.

"What can I say? I've been known to commit a lot of sins," he replies with a devilish smirk.

"Ha," I retort dryly.

"I'm surprised you came."

"Oh?"

"Well you made it clear you don't want any friends or _whatever_ ," he draws out the last word as he comes closer to me. "I didn't think I'd see you again."

The fine hairs stand on the back of my neck and my thoughts drain from my mind. What is it about him that renders me senseless?

"What kind of club night is this anyway?" I mumble.

"It's a band night," he replies, leaning his back on the edge of the bar and resting his elbows on the top. Given the venue and crowd, it stands to reason the music will be nothing I'll enjoy. Smoothing some stray strands of hair behind his ear, Sebastian observes me out of the corner of his eyes. "Don't worry, there's only two tonight," he adds. That didn't reassure me.

Glancing down, I spot a decorative circular tattoo on the back of his hand.

"What's that?" I wonder.

"It's the tetragrammaton, a variation of it anyway," he answers. Before I could enquire any further, Bard comes over to us.

"There you are Sebastian; I wondered where you fucked off to." He says in a tone as gruff as the stubble on his face.

"Bard, have you met Ciel?" Sebastian asks with a grin.

He nods, "Ciel and I go way back," he smiles, his eyes dart between the both of us. "So, how long have you two been fucking?"

I nearly choke on my own saliva.

"We're not, uh, we just-" I splutter as my face burns red with embarrassment.

"Why do you have to be such an ass, Bard?" Sebastian chastises.

"What? He knows I'm just fucking with him, right Ciel?" He laughs.

"Don't mind Bard, he's crass for the sake of it," Sebastian tries to reassure me.

"Quite," I agree, coughing to clear my throat. How very _English_ of me.

"He's from Los Angeles, the home of no culture," Sebastian quips.

"Fuck you buddy," Bard snips. I chuckle at their exchange of insults and they both look at me. "Looks like the boy's got a sense of humour."

"Only slight," I smile.

"Well let's get a drink in ya and see if we can improve on it," Bard chuckles, then slaps me on the back of my shoulder several times.

Before anything else can be said, the lights dim and the room starts to quite down. An emcee in a tuxedo takes the stage and goes to the mic.

"Welcome to Slaughterhouse-Five, how's everyone tonight?" He bellows. The crowd whoop and cheer causing him to smile. "Excellent! We have an awesome show for you tonight starting with We Hate You, Please Die," the crowd cheer loudly, "followed by the main event, Devil's Blood!" What the hell kind of names are these? "Now before we begin, we have a tradition here to gauge the attitude of the audience. Seasoned vets you know the score, newbies try to follow along," he grins, "attitude check!"

The crowd flick up two fingers flipping him off and shouting back a resounding, "fuck you!"

Smiling, the emcee cups his hand to his ear, "weak! Try again. Attitude check!"

"Fuck you!" They return louder than before. Looking around I see everyone participating, including Sebastian with both hands up, flipping him off.

"One more time, attitude check!"

"Fuck you!"

"Police check!"

"Fuck me!" The crowd shout back and the room erupts with laugher.

"I suppose that'll do. Now let's get started. Welcome to the stage, We Hate You, Please Die!" He announces, bolting from the stage as the band come on. Without any further ado, they start.

The audience divides, the brave circle round at the front throwing punches at each other whilst moving to the music. Everyone else dances, jumping up and down and swaying to the beat, although, I have no idea how anyone can dance to this, it sounds like noise to me. The hissing static and heavy reverb vibrates through me making me feel a little sick.

Grabbing Lizzies' hand, Sieglinde slides off her stool and rushes onto the dance floor. They fling their bodies to the music as Alois drags Claude over to join them, grinding against him and holding him close.

"Do you want to dance?" Sebastian asks close to my ear.

"Do I look like I dance?" I riposte.

"Fair enough," he smiles. Placing his hand on the middle of my back, Sebastian pushes me away from the bar and slips behind me. Hooking his fingers into my belt loops he pulls me onto him and wraps his arms around my waist.

I tense up and freeze; unable to move on my own but my hips start to sway from side to side. He's moving me, directing my body and I let him rock me to the rhythm of the music. This is happening so quickly but I don't resist, feeling him press against me. My face burns, a smile creeps onto my lips and my heart races. Things I didn't think I'd feel since Finnian left me.

Is this wrong? Is it wrong to enjoy his hands on me, and the sensation of his touch? I don't want to think about it, not now; I just want to enjoy this, to keep this feeling a little longer.

Sebastians' hands move from my waist to the sides of my hips, staying for a moment to test my reaction. Humming loudly to give him permission, his hands then drift from my hips to the tops of my thighs.

"What are you doing?" I ask, looking up at him.

"Feeling you," he growls. The vibration resonates through my chest making my knees buckle, but Sebastian only holds me tighter. What's wrong with me? He can say anything and I fall apart. I've never felt this way before, it's exciting, addictive, and I like it.

Continuing to trail his hands up my sides with feather light delicacy, he sets my skin on fire. It drives me mad, burning with such intensity. Breathing in, I pick up the same delicious cinnamon smell from the other night and I salivate. He smells so good I want to taste him.

Wrapping up their last song the band finish and take a bow as the audience cheer them off the stage. I stay in Sebastians' arms, unwilling to move away. Bard walks over with a cheeky grin, like he's caught us doing something we oughtn't. Maybe he has.

"I need to borrow him for a bit," he says and Sebastian shifts me to the side. The sensation of his hands on me lingers and I shudder.

"I'll see you in a minute, try not to miss me," he purrs in my ear with a smile and I nod, watching as Bard and Sebastian head out of a side door.

Alois, Lizzie and Sieglinde come join me with smiles on their faces as though they just experienced some collective euphoric high.

"Where did they all go?" Sieglinde wonders, looking around.

"I don't know," I shrug, breathing in slowly, trying to calm my heart rate.

Lizzie orders us another round of drinks and we wait for them to return.

"So, Sebastian's nice," she mentions with a smile.

"I know what you're thinking," I sigh, pretty sure she must not approve of this.

"And what's that?"

"Sebastian isn't my type, he's older than me, he's a Goth or whatever, I just broke up with Finny-"

"I'm thinking none of those things," she interrupts, "I really do like Sebastian, we all do."

"You think it's too soon?"

Her eyes drift to the side as she thinks for a moment.

"Only you know if it is or not," she replies thoughtfully.

"Alois thinks the best way to get over someone is-"

"I know what he thinks but it doesn't work for everyone," she pauses, leaning against my side. "I just want you to be happy, that's all I've ever wanted."

Smiling, I kiss the crown of her head, "I know."

The bartender returns with our drinks and we spend the next few minutes chatting and catching up. It's been a while since I've really spent any time with Lizzie, Sieglinde and Alois, as I prefer to lock myself away in my flat. This is nice, it's no warm bed, book and cup of tea but it's still nice.

Fifteen minutes pass, the lights dim again and the low rumble of the audience starts to hush.

"Claude hasn't come back," Alois remarks beside me.

"Neither has Sebastian," I realise looking around the packed room.

It's too late now as the emcee takes the stage once more and the crowd whistles and roars.

"Attitude check!" He exclaims.

"Fuck you!" We all shout back, even I join in, getting swept up in the excitement.

"Good," he nods, "all right, I know who you're waiting for so let's bring 'em out, put your hands together for Devil's Blood!" He announces and then scurries off the stage as the band make their way on.

"Holy shit!" Alois blurts out as he claps eyes on Claude picking up a bass guitar. Sebastian saunters over to the mic with an electric guitar hanging over his front; Bard sits down at the drums and the rest of the members take their places along with them.

My jaw drops open, I'm not sure what I'm seeing. A pounding beat from the kick drum announces their start and Sebastian puts his lips close to the mic as he starts to sing. He doesn't scream or wail, his voice is clear and perfect as it flows out of him.

"Did you know they were playing?" Lizzie asks.

I shake my head, "I didn't even know he was in a band," I answer, turning to Alois who looks as stupefied as I must do. "Did you?"

"No, Claude never said a word."

The four of us watched in complete amazement as they perform. The audience dance, sway and sing along to the music, and everyone seems to know the lyrics. We can't help but be completely transfixed on Sebastian as each word sung is delivered in the most dulcet tones; his decadent voice is haunting and beautiful, it's hypnotic. I'm surprised and suitably impressed as I watch them perform, they're so good, even if it's not anything I would normally listen to.

"Sebastian's amazing, huh?" Alois remarks with surprise, watching Sebastians' long fingers stretch and dance along the neck of the guitar, making it sing sweetly under his control.

"I guess he is," I admit.

"Claude's good too, I can't believe it!" He claps his hands together and runs into the audience to squeeze his way to the front.

"Are you coming?" Lizzie queries from behind. I shake my head and she smiles, taking Sieglindes' hand and dragging her back onto the dancefloor.

The audience waves their arms in the air as they sing along; others dance provocatively in front of the stage, vying for Sebastians' attention. His eyes lower as he regards them with a smile, then they flick up and over to me. His hand caresses the top of the mic, leaning over and our gaze locks together. The next line of the lyric is whispered sending shivers down my spine. His smoky voice soars above the audience to my ears as though he's singing just for me.

" _I'm desperate to feel you again, for you to know my touch_ ," Sebastian utters softly, his eyes never deviating from mine. I don't look away either, remaining perfectly focused on him. My heart pounds ferociously in my chest, and the back of my neck starts to burn up to my ears as I start to fluster. Finally Sebastian closes his eyes letting his hand slip from the top of the mic to the stand, his fingers delicately stroke the metal bar.

I'm drawn in. The music, his voice and how he's bathed in the soft red glow of the stage lights. It highlights the sheen of sweat on his skin making him glow. The way he speaks to me already lays waste to my sensibilities and now how he sings has taken over me completely. It's the strangest feeling; I am completely under his spell.

What do I do?

Everything about Sebastian is wrong for me, different and challenging. I'm set in my ways, I don't bend or change for anyone, not even Finnian but here I am in this club, watching someone I wouldn't even give the time of day to if asked performing music I avoid and I'm glad I came.

Their performance is over far too quickly as Sebastian says thank you to the screaming audience and they leave the stage. Blinking a few times to try and snap out of whatever spell I was put under, Alois' hand slaps me hard on the back jolting me awake.

"How fucking amazing was that?" He raves.

"Uh, yeah," is all I can manage.

"Sebastian's fantastic," Lizzie joins in and Sieglinde nods in agreement. My mind is completely blank, frantically ticking over searching for something to say but I can't. Lizzies' eyes roll to the side and light up. "Hi," she smiles, "you guys were amazing."

"Thank you," Sebastian comes up from behind me and leans against the bar. "What did you think Ciel?" He asks.

"Yes, you were quite good," I reply, immediately regretting not only my choice of words but also the delivery, can I be any more posh? "Good show," I finish, well it seems I can.

"Pip pip and all that," Bard mocks in an over articulated English accent as he stands in front of me with a wide grin on his face. "Care for a spot of fish 'n' chips, guv'nor?"

"Yes all right, I get it," I mumble.

"I know it seems this giant excuse of a human being is a jerk, and he is, but it also means he likes you." Sebastian grins.

"Yeah kid, you're all right," Bard chuckles. "But I'll leave you two love birds alone, I'm going out for a smoke."

We both nod, watching him push through the crowd to head outside. Looking around, I notice a lot of people staring at us, well more at Sebastian than me.

"Hey, can I take you someplace?" He asks. Perhaps he feels the weight of the stares or maybe he doesn't feel up to talking to anyone but even so, I'm unsure I should go.

"I should probably stay with my friends," I decide. Turning his head Sebastian sees them otherwise occupied with the other members of the band.

"They seem busy," he smirks and laces his fingers with mine, "come on, it's not far from here, I'll have you back before they even know you're gone."

I try and think of an excuse not to go but my mouth opens before I can stop it.

"Okay fine," I concede.

Smiling and holding my hand tightly Sebastian leads me through the crowd towards the door.


	4. I Want What I Want

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "We have candy."

We walk in complete silence.

I'm not sure if it's because we can't figure out what to say to one another or maybe Sebastian isn't much of a talker. In any case, this is awkward. Still holding my hand, Sebastian leads me through the streets of Camden. We weave through the clubbers and bar hoppers who are out looking for a good time and make our way onto the High Street.

All the shops are closed for the day. The usual colour and eccentricity of this place all packed away for the night. The brick buildings are lit up with an array of candy coloured lights; yellows, pinks and purples shine brightly against the facades illuminating the artwork and sculptures on them. I never care to pay this place any attention choosing to avoid it like the plague. It's not exactly the type of place someone like me would be caught dead in but walking through it at night gives the place different feel. I don't really have the chance to take it all in, Sebastian seems to be in a hurry, rushing us through the brick catacombs of Camden Market Stables towards Union Street.

As we get to the opening of Camden Lock Place, I feel the chill in the air. Each exhale I make mists into condensation, which wafts around my face. In our haste to leave the club I forgot to collect my coat. I certainly feel the cold; my body starts to tremble and lets out a small shiver.

"Are you cold?" Sebastian enquires, giving my hand a tight squeeze.

"Aren't you?" My teeth rattle.

He shakes his head, "no, I'm used to it; I do this a lot after a show."

"What drag someone down the streets of Camden?"

Sebastian smiles, "no, you're the first."

Damn it. My cheeks start to burn blushing at his admission. Turning my head away to hide it, I mutter a slew of curses under my breath. My body reacts to him like a teenager's would with their first crush, although, I suppose that's just what this is, a crush. His hand is warm in mine and I can still feel the way his arms felt around me as we moved to the music. I need to think of something to say and quick before my blushing causes a third degree burn on my face.

"So, how long have you been in a band?" It's a good place to begin I think.

"Years now I suppose. We all met at Uni and decided to form a band," he answers.

"And you play the guitar?"

"Actually, I'll have you know that I can play any stringed instrument and the piano," he grins proudly.

"Wow, that's amazing," I blurt out without thinking.

"I guess," he chuckles with a shrug.

"I can play the violin."

"Oh yeah?" Sebastian looks over to me.

I nod, "I've been playing since I was ten."

"You're just full of surprises," he smiles, tugging me closer to his side. His body feels warm against me despite the cold.

Going quiet again, we make our way through Camden Market Lock towards the Regents Canal. Passing a few of the packed bars that line the canal we turn and walk down a dark side street behind the bars.

"Where are we going?" I ask as the lights start to fade in the distance.

"You'll see."

It's dark, barely any light as the majority of the decorative Edwardian looking street lamps are switched off. We approach a small bridge, which goes over the canal and head down the sloping pathway. Walking alongside the canal pathway and the buildings, we finally stop at a tall iron gate that block off a set of concrete steps leading to the water. Letting go of my hand, Sebastian strides over to the gate and checks it; it's locked shut for the night. This must be to prevent drunks and kids from going down there and falling into the water, especially as there's nothing really here, there wouldn't be anyone to help.

If it's locked for the night, what are we doing here? Before I can ask, Sebastian grips the bars and in one swift motion he scales the gate and hops over, landing on the top step of the stairs. Staring at me with a huge grin on his face he motions for me to come join him.

"No, absolutely not," I protest.

"Why not?"

"In what world does it look like I climb gates?" I snort.

"Come on, it's easy," he tries to persuade me.

"I'm not disputing that, I just refuse to do it."

"It's fun over here," he practically sings, "we have candy."

Smiling with a little saunter over to the gate, I lower my eyelid as I regard him.

"Oh, well in that case," I pause for dramatic effect, " _hell no_." I finish with a sly smirk.

Sebastian frowns, drumming his fingers in frustration along the metal bars of the gate. Judging by his reaction he must not be used to not getting his way. I must say, seeing his exquisite face scrunch up in annoyance is quite amusing but I suppose I'll let him win, this time at least.

Exhaling loudly my arms drop to my sides as I make a little show out of giving into his request.

My eye scans the bars and I think about how to negotiate my way up and over it. Just by looking at me, you can tell I don't participate in any physical activity and my level of strength is next to nil. However I grab onto the bars and jump up. My feet slide down struggling to get a grip and I slip, just hanging on the railing.

Sebastian starts to chuckle as he watches my legs flounder about trying to get a foothold on the bars.

"You know you could help," I grumble through my struggle.

"I could but this far too amusing."

Flailing about and kicking my legs out to gather some sort of momentum, I pull myself up to the top with a loud laboured grunt. Looking down at him, I see Sebastian wipe a tear from his eye as he roars with laughter. It seems I'm now stuck, straddling the top.

"I'm so glad to be proving you with such humour," I scowl, still trying to figure out my way down.

"I'm sorry but you just look so helpless," he snickers.

"Well then help me you arse!" I curse. Reaching up Sebastian grabs my waist and guides me down onto the first step of the stairs.

Slowing making our way down, he helps me off the last step and I jump to the ground. The palm of my hands feel gritty and gross from the climb but before I have the chance to wipe them, Sebastian takes my arm and leads me down the secluded pathway. Taking care to stay close to him, my eye wanders around to take in our surroundings.

There's nothing really here. Up ahead there are a few canal boats moored up along the sides. Some trees with branches that drape down over us but don't touch the ground and lots and lots of concrete, that's it.

Sebastian stops, turning to face me.

"Here we are," he smiles.

"This is it?"

"What were you expecting?" He wonders.

"Certainly not this," I mutter under my breath. Seriously, when you say you want to take someone someplace, perhaps you should be more specific.

Leaning against the concrete wall Sebastian crosses his legs at the ankle and stuffs his hands in his pockets. Resting his head back on the wall he closes his eyes and breathes in deeply, taking in the night air. Joining him, I stand next to his side looking out on the water. It's quiet, totally still. The only movement is the water being rippled by bugs landing on the surface.

"Do you hear that?" Sebastian asks, still keeping his eyes closed.

"No, what is it?"

"Silence," he pauses, "we're in the middle of Camden and it's quiet."

He's right, it's as though the hustle of Saturday night has been left above ground. The white light of the lone street lamp from above reflects into the ripples of the water and refracts onto the roof of the arch. My gaze trails from the water to Sebastian, his face is completely relaxed as he enjoys the peacefulness of our surroundings. Staring at him, I feel my hand twitch with an urge to reach out and touch his cheek. I want to feel the curve of his face and the softness of his skin but I don't. Instead I clear my throat and wander to the edge of the pathway and look down at the algae floating on the water's surface.

Pushing himself upright, Sebastian bends over and feels around for something along the side of the wall.

"What are you looking for?" I wonder, staring at him roam around from side to side.

"Something I put here earlier," he smirks; trying to remember where he put this thing he's looking for. Feeling the wall in the dark he finds a small enclave and pulls out a bottle. "Care for a drink?"

"Absolutely not!"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes I'm quite sure," I stress with an arch in my brow. "What is it anyway?"

"Whisky," he gives me a knowing smile.

"How long has it been there?"

"I already told you, I put it here earlier," he smirks. Crossing my arms, I frown at his response.

"How do you know no tramps have drunk it?"

"I marked it when I put it here," he points to a thick black line on the side, "see? No one's touched it."

I roll my eye as I'm still not completely satisfied with his explanation. Sebastian watches me whilst he unscrews the lid and sits it down on the ground. As he holds the bottle out to me, I raise my hand and shake my head to politely decline him once more.

Shrugging, Sebastian takes a sip of whisky and my whole body shudders. How disgusting.

"Is this what you do?" I scoff, trying to shake off the residual shivers.

"What do you mean?" He wonders between sips.

"I mean is this what you do all day? Hide whisky under bridges and play in clubs?"

Leaning back against the wall, Sebastian swirls the liquid in the bottle around and studies it for a moment before flicking his eyes up to me.

"How much would it bother you if I said yes?" He smiles with that same devilish glint in his eyes. I don't respond but I know I must look shocked or stunned because he laughs at me and continues. "Relax Ciel, I'm just fucking with you," he chuckles, holding out the bottle to me. This time I take it, snatching it out of his hands and wiping the lip with the cuff of my sleeve.

"Fucking with me seems to be a theme for the night," I scoff, glugging down a mouth full of whisky. It tastes terrible, burning all the way down my throat.

"You do curse?" He simpers, surprised to hear the word come out of my mouth.

"I have been known to swear on occasion."

"What occasion would that be?" He purrs, lowering his eyelids and taking a step towards me.

I smirk, "wouldn't you like to know?"

"I would, I want to know all about you," he murmurs, keeping his voice low. Coming up behind me, I can feel his hand slide down my shoulder blade and stay on the small of my back. Shrugging him off I move to the wall and press my back against it.

"Why?" I wonder, taking another swig of whisky. God this burns.

Sebastians' brow arches as he regards me, "you intrigue me."

Bowing my head, I hum lowly.

"Is that so?"

"Yes," he reaches out to touch me again but I dodge him with a grin. I don't mean to be so elusive but I know if I let him touch me, I won't be able to control myself.

"If you don't spend your time hiding booze and playing in bars, then what do you do?" I try and shift his attention onto something else.

"Actually, I own a gallery," he answers, dropping his arm to his side finally taking my hint. I'm a little disappointed he's given up so quickly but what did I expect when I keep denying him the opportunity? Shaking my head to dismiss my thought I try one last sip of the whisky.

"What kind of gallery?" I cough, the burning is really too much for me.

"An art gallery, I specialise in Post War and Contemporary works."

Well that was not what I was expecting. I didn't really know much about the art world but I have been known to collect some pieces for investment from time to time.

"You own an art gallery?"

"You seem shocked," he returns with a slight amount of confusion in his voice.

"Well, yeah."

"I was an investment banker but it wasn't for me. I made my money and got out, now I'm able to indulge in actual passions, music and art."

"Well, aren't you full of surprises?" I smile, reiterating his rhetoric from earlier. He shrugs at my remark and takes a step towards me.

"Appearances can be deceptive sometimes; you shouldn't pass judgement on looks alone."

"I suppose you're right," I agree.

Smiling, Sebastian runs a hand through his hair. I hand back the bottle and he takes it, sitting it down beside us. With another step, he moves so close to me; I can feel the cold steel of his belt buckle press against my stomach. Hands reach out and run down my shoulders, stopping at my elbows. Gently tugging them forwards, my forearms graze past his side.

"What do you think you're doing?" I ask, letting him plant my arms around his waist. I may not be able to resist him, but I have to put up some kind of protest and obviously not appear too eager.

Saying nothing, Sebastian pushes his hips into me and pins me against the cold concrete wall. The chill sends a sharp shiver up my spine but then again, I think it's him. His hand reaches out and touches the side of my face, running over my cheek. I can't help but stare at him, blinking slowly, not wanting to miss a thing.

"You're so fucking beautiful, you know that?" He murmurs, the timber of his deep voice resonates through me. My mouth drops open but nothing comes out, this bastard has actually rendered me speechless. Sliding his hand from my cheek to the back of my neck, he brings my face to his.

I know what's about to happen and yet I feel so unprepared. My heart anxiously beats into his chest as it races but he only smiles, feeling each pulsating beat. Leaning in, his tongue runs over my lips before he comes closer. I breathe out into his mouth as his lips touch mine. It's electric, shooting through me like a live wire and making every inch of my skin raw to the touch. Such a feeling would make anyone hurt but it makes me feel so good.

Sebastian's tongue finds its way into my mouth and I don't fight it, I let him taste me and savour my flavour. Despite the cold of the air and the wall, his mouth is hot and his body is even hotter. Using his knee he nudges my legs apart slightly as his thigh brushes my groin, causing my knees to weaken but he pushes into me, holding me up against the wall.

Hands run themselves over my sides, gripping my waist firmly. I pull him onto me as I grab at his shirt. There is no sense of urgency here; we both take our time enjoying the feel of our bodies together as he slams against me. The taste of Sebastian is utterly delicious, just as he smells. His spicy cinnamon flavour hits my tongue and I relish it.

I want him; I've never wanted anything so badly in my entire life. His hands feel my body, searching and exploring me over my clothes. Holding him tight, his hips grind against mine and I emit a soft mewl into his mouth. Sebastian growls in return making my whole body shudder.

This scares me.

I can lose myself here, lose myself in him. Strong arms envelope me as I'm devoured. His thigh pushes against my groin and I sigh out. Biting my lower lip playfully, he pulls away from me with a devious smile playing on his redden lips. Instinctively my mouth moves to find his but he's gone.

"Why did you stop?" I pant, trying to catch my breath. Sebastian leans into me and puts his lips next to my ear.

"Always leave them wanting, then they'll want more," he purrs and pushes away from me completely. "Come on, let's get you back," he winks, holding out his hand for me to take.

Wiping my lower lip with my sleeve, I let out a little sardonic chuckle and take his hand. He leads me back down the pathway towards the gate as we make our way back.

He's right, I do want more, so much more and I want him to give it to me.


	5. You Really Think You're In Control?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Be rough with me."

That smile, that delectably devilish smile he wears so often is still on his lips as we make our way back to Slaughterhouse-Five.

I feel jittery; my blood runs red hot through my veins and there's a foolish grin plastered on my face. It makes my cheeks ache but it will not fade no matter how hard I try. With my hand in his, Sebastian leads me back through the city streets. We're silent but it feels comfortable, natural, as though we've been doing this for years. My mind is full of questions I want to ask him, things I wish to know but it's all overpowered by what I want the most. I want Sebastian to stop, to take me to some secluded alleyway and finish what we started.

"Are you all right?" He asks looking over at me. I can feel my face flush again so I turn my head away.

"I'm fine," I mutter.

"Your cheeks are red," he simpers. Damn it, I've been caught.

"It's because of the cold," I lie.

"If you insist."

Yes all right, I'm a bloody teenager again and it's all so very ridiculous but I can't help it. There's a charm about him, something enigmatic and alluring. Worse of all he knows it. He uses his charisma to his advantage and now I find myself swept up in it. What do you want with me Sebastian? Am I just someone you're attracted to because I pretend not to be interested? Will I be nothing but a conquest, a notch on the bedpost? The first posh boy he's ever had? He knows I've just come out of a relationship and I have said I don't want to enter into anything, so what is it? Maybe I'm a game to him, my vulnerability must be some sort of turn on?

_Easy now Ciel, don't jump to conclusions here._

I shake my head and try to go back to thinking about his hands on me, searching and exploring, how it felt but I can't seem to dismiss these other thoughts. Am I his type? Does he even have one? And I'm doing it again.

"You're squeezing my hand," Sebastian nudges me, snapping me out of my thoughts.

"What?" I snap.

"Your grip is a little tight," he smiles, glancing down at our hands.

"Oh, sorry," I apologise and loosen my hold.

I need to calm down, nothing's even happened yet. We've only kissed and that's it.

We arrive back at the club and push our way through the crowd who dance and move to the heavy bass laden music like an ocean swell. They rise and fall to the pulsating beat as it's pumped out of the loud speakers. Catching a glint of Lizzie's blonde hair we make a beeline towards her. She, and the other members of Devil's Blood, are surrounded by interested people all wanting to have the opportunity to talk with them.

Her head turns and she spots me, waving us over with a huge smile on her face.

"Ciel, there you are!" She says excitedly. "Where did you get off to?"

"Sebastian wanted to show me something," I reply.

"I bet he did," she winks.

"It isn't like that," I grumble with a frown. Lizzie nods as her eyes dart around the room.

"Where's Sebastian?" She wonders aloud, we both look around for him but can't seem to find him. "There he is," she points to the side.

He's in the centre of a group of women who appear to be fawning all over him. Watching them I feel my eyebrows knit together in annoyance. These women are behaving so shamelessly, flirting and touching him casually. Little hair tosses, lip biting, coquettish giggles and this when they're not actually pressing their overly pronounced cleavages against his arms. Sebastian indulges them as he flirts back. He touches the side of one woman's cheek and bends over, whispering something in her ear. It must have been salacious because she giggles and bites the knuckle of her index finger, fanning herself with her other hand.

There's a feeling in the pit of my stomach, it wrenches and tightens making me feel nauseated. I don't know what's come over me but I feel upset. Snorting and turning back to the bar, I pick up a beer mat and start ripping pieces off of it. I guess I was right after all; I am no more than a game to him, well I'm not playing anymore.

"What is the matter, little gnome?" Sieglinde wonders, poking my cheek with her finger.

"Nothing," I mumble, flicking another piece of shredded cardboard onto the bar.

"It does not look like nothing."

"Well it is so leave it," I dismiss her sharply.

I'll admit it; Sebastian with those women bothers me. I'm jealous of the attention he pays them, the laughing and the touching. Although I'm not totally sure why, this isn't a fling or affair and he certainly doesn't belong to me. I have no claim on Sebastian but still, watching him with those women; it hurts. Picking up another beer mat I repeat the ripping process.

"What's wrong with him?" Bard enquires from behind.

"He is not saying," Sieglinde informs him. I roll my eye, wouldn't it be great if I could be left alone for a moment?

"What's the matter Ciel?" Lizzie asks, keeping her soft tone sympathetic and kind.

"It's nothing, I just don't feel well at the moment," I answer, finishing off what's left of the second beer mat. Lizzie presses the back of her hand to my forehead; I grimace, moving my head away.

"You don't feel warm," she comments.

"I didn't say I felt hot," I snort.

"Then what is it?"

"I'm just not feeling well," I pause and then sigh, "I think I'm going to go home."

"Do you want one of us to go with you?" Alois suggests. Great and now the gang's all here.

Placing my hands on the edge of the bar and bowing my head I try to think of an excuse to get out of here and be alone.

"It's fine, I can get a taxi," I reason.

"I'd feel better if one of us came with you," Lizzie says with large pleading eyes.

"Lizzie, I'm twenty years old, I'm pretty sure I can take care of myself by now." Well, I've made it this far and besides, I'm not actually sick.

"All right fine," she caves, throwing her arms around me and kissing my cheek. "Call me when you get home."

"Yes Lizzie," I groan and she lets me go.

Straightening myself out, I say my good-byes to everyone and head to the black velvet curtain for the exit. Getting my coat from the cloakroom, I tuck it under my arm and make my way out of the club.

"Ciel, where are you going?" Sebastian calls after me just as I reach the door.

"Home, I've had enough of this night," I say, pushing the door open to leave. Once out, I storm down the street to the corner.

"Let me come with you," he offers, catching up to me.

"Why would I want that?"

"Because, perhaps we could finish what we started earlier?" He purrs in my ear.

"You remember that?" I huff, shrugging him off.

"What?"

"Nothing, never mind," I shake my head. I'm starting to annoy myself with this level of childish petulancy.

"No, tell me," he insists, coming towards me again.

"Really, it's nothing. Besides, I wouldn't want to keep you from your adoring fans." I scoff. That did not come out as elegantly as I would have wanted it to.

"My adoring fans?" He arches his brow.

"You know, those women who practically threw themselves at you when we returned," I pout. Well, I can categorically say this is not my finest hour. Pinching the bridge of his nose Sebastian lets out an amused chuckle.

"You're such a brat," he grins.

"Excuse me?"

"Seems to me you're jealous."

"I most certainly am not!" I protest. Okay, that's a lie but I'll be damned if I give him the satisfaction of knowing this.

"Then what's the problem?" He comes over to me again; standing so close I can feel his breath on my face.

"There's no problem," I grumble, trying not to blush at the close proximity. Taking another step he presses himself into my side, running his hand down my back.

"I like you Ciel, and I'm interested in no one but you," he says with a low rumble in his voice. I can't stand it; this man is going to be the end of me.

"Okay," is all I can say.

"Then let me come home with you," he insists.

"Fine," I sigh, reluctantly yielding to his request.

With a victorious smile on his face Sebastian steps out and hails a black cab. The driver pulls over to the side and Sebastian opens the door for me. Getting in and sliding over, he joins me, shutting the door behind him.

"Where to mate?" The driver asks over the intercom.

"Holland Park," I respond.

"I figured you'd live somewhere posh," Sebastian grins. Grunting with an over exaggerated eye roll, I throw myself back against the seat crossing my arms.

The driver zips through the city streets making it past traffic with relative ease. We watch the buildings whip by us as we sit in silence. The quiet isn't awkward; instead it's peaceful and comfortable just like our walk.

My eye travels from the window to Sebastian's hands on his lap. If I drop my hand down to my side will he take it? No, I shouldn't, perhaps it's best to limit contact, I don't know. This whole situation confuses me; I want to take him home, have him kiss me and then lead him to my bed but I'm hesitant. Am I making the right decision? If it were, there'd be no doubt in my mind.

Arriving at my building we hop out of the taxi and I head to the entrance, stopping as I hear the driver pull away. Turning around I find myself smacking into Sebastian's chest, as he stands right behind me. With his hands on his hips there's a glint in his eye as he looks down at me.

"What?" I wonder, taking a giant step back.

"Aren't you going to invite me up?" He smirks.

"No," I reply flatly.

"No?" He repeats suspiciously.

"I don't think it's such a good idea," I use a little reason to try and dissuade him. His head dips and he moves towards me.

"Why don't you think it's a good idea?" His voice is thick and sweet like treacle.

"You know why," I utter softly, avoiding eye contact.

"I don't, I thought we had a good night together."

"We did," I agree. Sebastian places his hands on the top of my shoulders and runs them up the sides of my neck.

"Then what's the problem? Come on, let me come up."

Damn it, he wins again.

Nodding my head he holds out his arm escorting me to the large glass door and I open it, letting him go through. With each step across the reception and past the concierge, my heart beats faster and faster. I'm doing this; I'm really going to do this. Getting to the lift and hitting the button for my floor, I pull my keys out of my coat pocket and lean against the metal bar at the back. Sebastian observes me in the reflection of the lift doors with a small smile. There's something behind that smile, something devious and depraved. I stifle a shiver because I have no idea what he has in store for me.

Arriving at the top floor we walk into the corridor and Sebastian looks around.

"I own the whole floor," I state, walking up to the only door here.

"Do you live with anyone?"

"I used to live with Finny, um, my ex but he's moved out so I live alone."

Nodding, he watches me put the keys in the lock, twist the handle and push the door open. We go through and I shut the door behind us whilst Sebastian heads off towards the sitting room.

"It's exactly as I thought it'd be," he remarks, taking a look around.

"What does that mean?"

"I thought it would be beige with a lot of antiques," he smiles, going over to a large decorative mahogany display cabinet along the wall. "And I was right," he finishes, letting his fingers trace the intricate design carved into the wood.

"It's a neutral colour," I shrug, laying my coat down across the armrest of the couch.

"There's nothing really of you here," he notes, touching the silver tea set I have on display.

"What do you mean, all of it is me."

"I mean it's very, _sterile_ in here."

"Well, that's how I like it," I huff but then quickly soften. "Finnian was the one with all of the things. I was never interested in stuff like that," I add.

"I see," Sebastian nods, going over to the bookcase. Rummaging around some of the books lifting them from the spines, he studies the covers before sliding them back in place. Moving onto the next shelf his eyes land on a silver picture frame.

"Is this your ex?" He enquires, picking it up and holding it out to me. Storming over I snatch it from him.

"Yes," I answer. As I look at the picture I feel a tug in my chest.

Sebastian shrugs, leaning against the display cabinet. "He's kinda attractive, in a pretty boy sort of way."

"What's your point?" I scoff as I go over to the bookcase.

"No point, just getting more information on the competition," he smirks.

"There is no competition, he broke up with me, remember?"

"But you still look at his picture," he comments.

Placing the picture face down on the shelf I let out a small sigh. I guess Sebastian has a point. I'm not sure what I'm expecting, Finnian isn't coming back and the sooner I realise this the better. I guess I should move on, there's nothing left of him here except memories I'd much rather forget.

Coming up from behind, Sebastian grabs my waist pulling me into him. Humming loudly, his hand slides down the side of my neck pulling my collar down. His hot breath hits my skin with each exhale as he drags his tongue along the side up to my ear.

"Tell me, do you want to think about him or do you want to think about me?" His whispered voice is low sending a sharp shiver up my spine.

"You," I breathe out, closing my eye and resting my head on his shoulder.

"Good."

Nestling into the crook of my neck Sebastian places the softest of kisses along the nape. Hands squeeze my hips pulling me into his groin. Every thought I've ever had drains from me as I succumb to his touch. Reaching up behind me, I grab a fist full of his hair and let my other hand land on his.

No, I don't want to think about Finnian right now, I don't want to think about anything other than Sebastian's hands on me.

Taking control, I slide his hand from my waist and slip it under my shirt. The warmth of his touch feels good on my skin and I let him travel further up. Fingers circle and graze over my nipples before pinching them lightly at first and then a little harder.

Gasping, I let out a soft moan and run my hand up and down his neck, pushing myself into him. Sebastian growls, licking the top of my shoulder before biting down. The sharp pain shoots through me making me yelp and fall to my knees bringing him down with me. Removing his hand from under my shirt, Sebastian moves off of me and I roll over onto my back.

He wraps his hands around my ankles and spreads my legs apart. Lifting my head to see what he's doing, I watch as he places one hand in front of the other crawling towards me with a feline prowess. My heart races with each measured move he makes, I am his prey and the look on his face means he's readying to devour me. Stopping at my waist, I swallow hard as his hands land on my thighs and fingers walk themselves up to the waistband of my jeans. I blink but before I know it, Sebastian has already unbuckled my belt and he's sliding down my zipper.

The anticipation is killing me. He's barely laid a hand on me but my breath is laboured, heavy and baited as I await his next move. Hooking himself into the fabric of my jeans and under the elastic of my pants, Sebastian starts to inch them down. His eyes never leave mine as he reveals me bit by bit.

His full lips curl into a devilish smirk as his gaze moves from me to my cock as it finally emerges and stands proudly before him.

I'm anxious; I feel my heart is about to explode through my chest as this exquisite man regards me. Approaching it slowly Sebastian licks his lips, creeping ever closer.

"Relax," he purrs, feeling my body tense underneath him. My head falls back and I breathe in deeply, waiting as Sebastian places his hands on the tops of my thighs. The next thing I feel is his tongue running the length of my shaft from base to tip. I clench and jerk as his tongue works it's way back down again. I exhale loudly and ball my hands into tight fists.

"Stop teasing me," I whine.

"Greedy," Sebastian chuckles at my request, "unfortunately, you'll have to wait."

Kissing a trail up my shaft, he plays with me, making me suffer. I'm so sensitive to the gentle touch of his wet lips. I move, arching my back in desperation to make further contact but he only pulls away.

"Please Sebastian," I whimper as he kisses his way back up to the head, swirling his tongue around it before running over the slit.

"You taste delicious," he growls, before delving in again. I can't help but squirm, slamming my fists down on the floor and rolling my head back squeezing my eyes shut.

"You're torturing me!" I cry out.

"Then tell me what you want," he says between licks.

What do I want? Everything, I want all of it but right now I'll settle for this.

"Your mouth," I state firmly and within a second he obliges. Wrapping his wet lips around my cock and sliding down to the base. My whole body convulses as he works me, his head bobs as lips suck hard. Tangling my fingers into his hair I gently guide him up and down.

"Be rough with me," he instructs mid suck. _Very well then._

Grabbing a fist full of hair I force him down, unable to control myself with each thrust into his mouth. Sebastian rakes his nails across my thighs clawing and pinching as my hips rise and fall, riding him with each bob of his head. He feels good on me. His mouth is moist and hot, his lips suck and pull, his tongue lays flat against my shaft massaging it with each motion he makes.

Sebastian's hands move from my thighs to my hips, sliding underneath to my back and lifting me up. He drags his teeth up and down the length of my cock, making me shiver from the sensation. I like how he makes me feel as the tension builds within me. I like how he has complete control over me, control of every inch of my body and more than anything; I like how I willingly give in to him.

Panting, I writhe and buck but he holds me tighter, his nails digging into the small of my back.

"Fuck!" I moan loudly, causing him to chuckle. The vibration rattles through me like a wave. With each tug of his hair Sebastian lets out a little grunt as I push him down hard on my gyrating hips.

I'm close.

I whimper and whine keeping my eye shut with my hands in his hair forcing him to go faster. His mouth circles as his lips squeeze tighter.

Oh, damn it! I can't hold it in for much longer. His nails claw into my back as it arches and I cry out but I as get ready for my release, the doorbell sounds out.

"Ignore it," Sebastian says with my cock still between his lips. Trying to do as instructed, I continue to ride his mouth but it rings again and constantly. "For fuck's sake," he grumbles between sucks.

Ringing the bell out once more my interrupter gives up and decides to bang on the door. They land a few rapid knocks against it, which reverberates throughout the hall and into the sitting room. Christ, they're persistent. However loud they are, Sebastian is unrelenting as he continues to work me.

"Ciel?" A familiar voice calls out from the other side of the door, and my eye flies open.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit! Get off me!" I hiss, scrambling to my feet and pushing Sebastian away. Frantically trying to pull up my trousers and stuffing myself back in; I roll over onto my knees and stagger up to my feet.

"Who is it?" Sebastian hisses, wiping his mouth with the heel of his hand.

"Ciel? Are you there? I can hear something, please don't ignore me."

"You have to go," I try and whisper but it's louder than anticipated.

Sebastian rocks up onto his knees and runs his hands through his hair.

"Go where? Who is it Ciel?" He asks again.

"It's my ex, Finny," I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose trying to think of how to get out of this situation. I guess I don't.

"Well it seems you have a problem," he smirks with his eyes narrowing at me.

"What?" I frown and he points to my crotch. Fantastic, I'm still hard. "Fuck!" I exclaim, rushing over to the couch and grabbing a throw pillow holding it in front of me.

"Yeah, that'll work," Sebastian chuckles.

"Will you shut up?" I growl through gritted teeth.

"Ciel?" Finnian calls again.

"I'm coming!" I shout back.

"Well, you were," Sebastian snorts.

My head shoots over to him to give the filthiest look I possibly can before marching towards the corridor.

"Just act normal, okay?" I instruct over my shoulder.

"I'll take my cue from you then, shall I?" He grins, thoroughly charmed by what can only be the most awkward situation I have ever been in.

"Please Sebastian?" I beg and he nods, getting to his feet quickly and then sitting down on the couch.

Arriving at the door I clear my throat and brush the stray strands of my fringe from my forehead. Keeping the pillow firmly pressed against me I roll my shoulders to steady myself. Yes, this is totally natural, I mean, who wouldn't have a pillow in front of them to hide the massive erection they've got from just now having their cock in someone's mouth? So, fucking natural indeed.

Unlocking the door I turn the handle and open it only to see Finnian leaning against the doorframe with his head bowed as he breathes in deeply.

"I knew you were in," he smiles raising his head. Staggering to me, he lifts his face to try and kiss me but, keeping one hand on the pillow, I place the other on his chest halting him. He giggles and I can smell the distinct aroma of alcohol on his breath.

"Have you been drinking?" I ask as he stumbles past me.

"Yes," he replies with a little hiccup.

"What are you doing here?" I enquire, shutting the door and following behind him.

"I wanted to see you," he says, bracing himself against the wall. In all the time I've been with him, I've never seen Finnian have one drop of alcohol. This is totally unlike him. "This place… hasn't changed," he drunkenly notes to himself, sliding his way down the corridor.

"Of course nothing has changed."

Getting to the end of the corridor Finnian props himself up on the doorframe and cast his eyes around the room.

"Nothing has changed except," he mutters, "except… who's this?" He points to Sebastian and then turns to me, "and why are you holding a pillow?"

I take a deep breath and drop my head. Outstanding.


	6. I Know I Won't Be Leaving Here With You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A challenging miserablist, just what I need.

The coffee burns my throat as I guzzle it down. It's hot, and I feel it slide all the way into my stomach. Leaning against the edge of the table and taking another sip, I enjoy the filling heat radiating throughout my body. At some point, the caffeine will kick in and hopefully I will finally wake the fuck up. It's been a long day and it doesn't seem to be getting any shorter.

Sitting the mug down beside me but keeping my hand on it, I use the other one to rub the bridge of my nose. I have a headache, I'm exhausted and I'm desperately trying to tune out the asshole who seems content in making my suffering worse. I don't even know what he's on about anymore and frankly, I couldn't give a shit.

"Sebastian, are you listening to me?" Claude scolds me from across the room.

"Trying not to," I reply with a weary shake of my throbbing head.

"You are such a wanker," he snorts.

"Wanker?" I scoff, dropping my hand from my face. "Who the fuck uses that word anymore? Jesus, you're such an old man." Chuckling, I go over and pick up my prized 1964 Fender Stratocaster from its stand. Placing the mug down by my chair, I throw the strap over my shoulder and sit down. Holding my pick between my lips, I position the body of the guitar in my lap. The curve of the lower half fits snugly against my thigh.

"All I'm saying is now we've been signed, some of us, i.e. you, could start giving a fuck."

"I give a fuck Claude, just not as much as some people, i.e. you," I mumble, my lips still holding the pick in place.

"You could try harder," he ripostes with thinly veiled derisiveness. Pulling the pick from my mouth I slam my hand down on my knee.

"Since forming this band, have I been anything other than professional?" I question.

"No."

"Less committed?"

"No," he sighs.

"Then what is your fucking problem?"

"It seems like you don't care we've been signed."

"Honestly I don't care. I just want to play music; couldn't give a toss about the rest." I answer. "This is about as much a fuck I'm willing to give. Take it or leave it."

"Fine but an attitude improvement wouldn't go amiss," he adds snidely.

Cocking my head to the side, I flick a two-fingered V with a smile. "Fuck you."

"Nice, very clever," he snarls under his breath. "This is our first proper booking at a big club, I don't want anything to fuck it up."

"Then don't fuck it up," I smirk. He goes silent but I know he's seething.

Claude's not wrong; Saturday's show is a big deal for us but I couldn't care less and I'm not looking forward to it. All I wanted to do was create a sound I enjoy and if others enjoyed it too, bonus. I really didn't think we'd become popular and I sure as hell didn't think we'd get signed. My headache is finally starting to wane, which is welcomed relief, as I now have to get into the right headspace for practice.

Sliding my hand along the polished wood of the guitar, my fingers glide across the neck, feeling each miniscule groove on the strings before pressing down. Strumming to check the tuning I hum, hearing the sweet sound vibrating out. The door flies open and Bard strides in. Stopping in the middle of the room his eyes dart from Claude to myself.

"You two arguing again?" He asks with a knowing smile. He has this uncanny ability to pick up the vibe of a room within five seconds of stepping foot into it.

"No one is arguing Bard," Claude snorts, plucking out a few notes to check the tuning.

"Whatever you say man," he shrugs, goes over to the nearby table and picks up his sticks. "Hey, I was thinking-"

"That's new," I tease.

"Fuck you bro," he points the sticks at me. I smile back at him, raising my hands in the air in a mock surrender. He rolls his eyes and rubs the back of his neck. "I was thinking we need names for ourselves."

"We have a band name," Claude says turning the tuning pegs carefully.

"Yeah, I know the band has a name, I mean our names," he grins, using his sticks to tap out a beat on this thigh.

"What on Earth are you talking about?"

"Claude is not a hard core name," he states.

"We're not in a hard core band."

"Right, that's my point," Bard stresses. "We need names to fit the music we make, something that says don't fuck with us."

"Bard, have you been drinking?"

"Well I'm not drunk," he smirks. "I'm serious, we need names."

"All right fine, what did you have in mind?" Claude gives up in a bid to move things along. He's never one to just shoot the shit, always wanting to get down to business in a timely manner.

"Yeah? Okay!" He grins. "I thought we'd call you Spider and-"

"That's ridiculous," Claude dismisses.

"Why?"

"Because it is," he sighs.

"I think it suits you Claude," I weigh in.

"I can't wait to find out why," he retorts dryly.

"Because you're fucking creepy," I jest and Claude flicks his pick at me. It lands squarely on my forehead and bounces off.

"What's Michaelis?"

"Crow," Bard smiles.

"Why Crow?" I ask.

"Cause you look like that guy from the film."

"Didn't he die on set?" Drossell wonders as he comes into the room.

"I don't think so."

Tilting his head to the side, Drossell thinks to himself. "I remember, he was accidentally shot by a prop gun."

"Fuck," Bard exclaims.

"And that's what you want me to be called?"

"Can we drop the whole thing? It's bloody ridiculous," Claude grumbles.

"It was just an idea," Bard mutters.

"When have your ideas ever worked out?" Claude frowns, laying his bass down on his lap leaning forwards. "Remember when you suggested pyrotechnics and how well that turned out?"

"Yeah but it looked cool," Bard reasons.

"It took Drossell over a month to grow his eyebrows back and everything stunk of burnt hair for weeks." He sighs and shakes his head. "Sebastian, help me out here."

"Spiderman is right," I reply dryly.

"Thank you and do not call me that."

With that, we begin practice.

After a few hours, fraying tempers and a finely tuned set list for Saturday, we decide to call it quits for the day.

Standing by the table, Bard hands me a bottle of water as I come over to him.

"So we're still on for tonight?" Drossell asks us, fastening the locks on his guitar case.

"Tell me why we have to go?" Bard grumbles.

"Support?"

"Look man, nothing personal but as the only hetero here, can't I get some kind of pass outta this?"

"What's the matter Bard? Do you think being in a club full of hot and sweaty young men might turn you?" I grin, pressing my chest against his back as my hand creeps up his stomach.

"Fuck you man, seriously," he huffs, pushing my hand away.

"Relax," I shrug and lean against the table. "No one's going to hit on you, we may be gay but we do have taste," I smile and he frowns.

"What are you saying? I'm not hot enough?"

"How's it going with Mey?" I wonder, mid sip of my water.

"It's going," he sighs. "I think she's only interested so she can be close to you."

"I don't fuck redheads anymore," I state firmly.

"Aw yeah, forgot about Grelle," he shudders.

"We'd all like to forget about Grelle," Claude agrees.

"Besides, Mey's not my type," I add.

"You actually have a type?" Bard asks with more surprise than necessary.

Finishing the last of my water and twisting the lid back on, I think for a moment and shrug.

"Unlike you Bard, I'm tired of meaningless one night stands and messily sampling whatever's available. I need substance."

Bard snorts. "That's nice and all but you can't fuck substance."

"Hm," I hum and nod.

"I think you'll find Bard, Michaelis is too world weary to be like the rest of us," Claude digs at me. Maybe I am? I just find myself bored with being bored these days.

"Maybe you'll change your mind tonight after we get some drinks in you. Yeah, we'll fucking drink and party and then see what happens," he declares with an enthusiastic slap on my back.

"This is just a club Bard, not the court of Bacchus," Claude shakes his head.

"Bacchus? What's that?" Bard wonders, reaching back to scratch his back with his drumstick.

"Oh, well, Bacchus is the Greek God of why don't you read a fucking book?" Claude snorts, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

"You can be a real dick sometimes," Bard scowls.

"Sometimes?" I grin.

"Let's just go," he groans, picking up his case and grabbing his coat from the back of his chair.

We all nod, get our shit together and head out for the night.

…

The club is oppressively loud, the rhythm of the bass bleeds out through the speakers, shaking and rattling everything. Normally I wouldn't mind. I love a heavy bass beat, one that can shake the fillings from your teeth, but the music playing is seedy techno and house. It gives the kind of headache only cheap booze can achieve and it doesn't go away no matter how much you try. This kind of music grates my nerves. It isn't bad per se; it's the unimaginativeness of it and the unoriginality. As one track transitions into the next you can hardly tell the difference. This whole club is a massive stereotype and we certainly don't fit the mould as the patrons turn their heads and stare at us with one step into the club. Shrugging off their glares and going to the bar, we order a round of something that'll help us make it through the first hour of what looks to be a long fucking night. Downing our drinks, we get another round in.

"He's due on now, so I think we should go up." Drossell suggests. We all nod in agreement and follow behind him as he leads us to the back and up the concrete steps to the second floor. His partner Pluto booked a gig here, which is odd because he tends to spin heavier mixes than this club is used to. Still, a gig is a gig.

Although he isn't bad, I'm still not feeling it. Quickly thinking of an excuse to go outside for a while, I lean over to Bard who's trying to move to the beat.

"Bard, give us a fag would you?" I request. He pulls away, arching his eyebrow staring at me curiously.

"You don't smoke."

"I'm not going to smoke it."

"Then what do you want with it?" He wonders.

"I just need an excuse to go outside for a bit," I reason. Sighing, he fishes into his back pocket and pulls out a worn box. Flicking open the top, slender fingers dip in and bring out a thin white cylinder. Holding it between his index and middle fingers I reach to take it but he snaps it back with a sly smirk.

"Under no circumstances are you to smoke this. You're our lead singer and I'll be fucked if anything ruins your voice, you hear?" He warns me. Nodding my head he points the cigarette to my face and I take it in between my teeth.

"Thanks baby, I promise I'll be good," I chuckle with a wink.

"You're a real asshole, you know that?"

"I do but you wouldn't have me any other way," I grin, starting to weave my way through the sweaty masses to head out.

The biting cold hits me the minute I step outside. Moving along the wall, I huddle with the other smokers who have been relegated to the designated area by the corner. Rolling the slim cylinder in between my fingers I realise I don't have a light. Eyes scan the crowd to see who would be amenable and I spot him, a shivering little wide-eyed twink standing by himself. Sauntering over to him, I let a playful smile cross my lips as I approach. He looks up at me blinking a few times but saying nothing.

"Excuse me mate, you have a light?" I ask, leaning into his ear. His whole body shudders but not from the cold as his head nervously bobs.

"Yeah," he manages to say.

Before he can get his lighter from his pocket, I shake my head as my eyes land on his hand. Licking my lips before placing the cigarette between them, I bend over to him. Getting the idea he pops his cigarette in his mouth, creeping towards me and touching the lit end to mine. Sucking in a deep drag, the tip catches and burns. Smiling, I stand upright and take a step back.

"Ta," I grin. The pink of his wind kissed cheeks flush a brighter shade of red and he nods. Turning and moving down a bit I find the perfect spot and lean against the wall.

I know what Bard said and I'm not going to smoke the whole thing, I just want the hit of the first drag. It goes straight to my head and I smile, filling my lungs as deep as it'll go and holding it, that's all I need.

Exhaling, I feel the calm wash over me as the subsonic thump vibrates the wall, massaging my back. Holding the cigarette between my fingers, I let it burn itself out as I think about what Bard said earlier. Yes, I could pick up someone but it's all too easy. I miss the hunt and the eager anticipation. It seems so pedestrian now and clichéd, it's offensive to my aesthetic sensibilities. I want someone who will challenge me and make me work hard for it.

Crossing my arms I close my eyes for a moment and take in the sounds of the busy London streets. Soho is always packed at this time of night despite the weather. I don't really come here, not unless I'm going to a show or something but it's not really for me. None of this is.

Maybe Claude is right, perhaps I'm too world weary and I need to lighten up. Sage advice from someone who is more wound up than a jack in the box. Jack in the box? Fuck me, now who's old?

"You never chose good places!" A voice shouts from down the street. My eyes narrowly open to seek out the owner, the one who disturbed my peace. My gaze lands on a pair of kids arguing down the street. I let out an amused snort as I watch the little blond one stamp his foot down with an over articulated pout and the other stands firm. Good luck to you mate, this kid looks like he lives to create trouble. I can't help but be entertained by the pair and their interaction. The blond looks typical of this area but his friend doesn't. His clothes don't seem to suit him and then there's the eye patch. That alone intrigues me but no more than the completely disaffected look he wears. He looks like the sort who would tease me hard only for me to be put away wet, and I wouldn't mind.

The miserablist loses the fight as the blond grabs onto his wrist and yanks him down the street towards this club. As they come closer, I get a better look at his face. Even in the colourful glow of the neon light pouring out from above, he's beautiful, different and flawed but absolutely exquisite. They pass through the smoky plume from the smokers and the miserablist lets out a cough. It shakes him so much he loses his footing and crashes right into me. Even through this dense fog I can smell him, getting a whiff of black tea and polite society wafting from his skin. He says nothing as his friend pulls him along. _Well that isn't very polite of you_ , I muse.

"Excuse me," I let out a small, dissatisfied snort to see if he'll at least look at me.

"Sorry mate," is all I get and even then he mutters it to the ground. I smile but he doesn't see, not even a glance in my direction as he passes to go into the club. Well that's certainly not very polite, the little shit. What ever do they teach these kids in public school now a day?

Watching them disappear into the club I look down at my hand to see my cigarette nearly burnt out. I'd better get back to the group. If I stay out here any longer I'm sure to catch shit from Bard or even worse, Claude. Stubbing out what's left and pushing myself from the wall, I head back into club. Negotiating my way through the crowd and looking around I spot the two kids from earlier. The blond drapes himself over the bar beckoning the bartender whilst the miserablist continues to have the same disaffected look from outside. He wears it like a favourite piece of clothing and it never fades, even when the blond pushes a drink into his hand.

They down what look like jaegerbombs, judging by the familiar brown colour, and I watch as the miserablist's face puckers, obviously unused to the herbal flavour. There's a subtle charm about him. It's in how his face quickly snaps back to its default scowl and how he stands, completely upright with no slouch in his form. He fidgets a lot, and seems uncomfortable, but he maintains an air of haughty pride.

I feel someone push into me from the back to move me along and I realise I've been staring. I suppose I'll go back up to join the others now. Going past the pair, I head to the back for the stairs.

The group are still by the DJ booth and I start to make my way towards them but I see a flash of blond catch my eye as it fleets past me. Stopping to step aside, I see the pair from before. The blond rocks his hips to the music whilst the miserablist, who seems to have loosened up slightly, moves with a little nod of his head to the beat. After a while, the blond leaves him, sauntering over to Claude and tapping him on the shoulder to get his attention.

Licking his lips, he lowers his eyes in a bid to entice him to dance. Chuckling, I watch as his attempts are rewarded with a drag onto the dance floor. Claude looks shell-shocked and unsure of what to do as the blond grinds against him with such vigour; they may as well be fucking. The miserablist watches them with an amused smirk. He doesn't look like the type to enjoy himself or anything for that matter. I wonder what would bring a smile to his sullen face?

Walking up behind him I still smell the heady perfume from his skin from earlier. It hits me harder than the first drag of a cigarette and I inhale it deeply.

"Your mate's got skill," I mention from behind. His focus goes from his friend to the floor and up to me as he leisurely trails his eye from my boots up to my face. He does it in such a way it's slightly comical. With each new part he examines, a wry smile creeps onto his lips. You don't know what to make of me, do you?

"Yeah, he does possess a particular, talent," he replies.

There's something about him that makes me want to fuck with him a little, if only to see what kind of reaction I can get.

"Hey, you wanna play a game called Titanic?" I ask with a small smirk.

He arches his brow. "What's that?"

All right, let's see how far I can take this. With a grin on my face, I lean into him. "The rules are simple, when I say iceberg, you go down."

"Does that line actually work?" He snorts.

"Sometimes," I shrug.

His delicate face scrunches up into a haughty sneer, which delights me to no end. If given half the chance, I'd love to tease and annoy him further.

"Well, not on me," he scoffs, pushing past me. I try to stifle a delighted chuckle as I follow after him.

"No wait, it was a terrible joke," I apologise, not wanting him to get away from me so quickly. I'm not through with you just yet.

Whipping around to face me, he folds his arms across his puffed out chest.

"Too bloody right mate," he huffs. I like him already.

"Let's try this again," I offer, holding out my hand. "I'm Sebastian," I smile. He glances down at my hand but keeps his arms tight around his chest. "Do you have a name?"

"No," he replies sharply.

"Oh come on, I'm sorry for the joke."

"You said."

Looking over to Claude and his new blond firecracker, I smile; perhaps I should try another approach.

"Then why can't we be friendly?" My eyes go back to him. "Our friends are getting along, shouldn't we?" I let the words leisurely drip from my tongue, hoping to entice him.

"I'm not looking for a friend," he snaps. I take another step towards him as my eyes narrow.

"Then what are you looking for?" I coo.

"To go home," he states, stepping past me. I see winning over the miserablist is going to be quite challenging, how wonderful.

"What's the rush? The night's still young," I shout after him. Stopping abruptly and turning, he takes a giant step to me.

"Since you asked, I just came out of a long term relationship with the only person who ever loved me, but didn't love who I've become, so he dumped me." I've stepped in it now; he doesn't seem nearly finished with his speech. "The two friends I do have think I'm emotionally repressed and materialistic, which is something I found out about twenty minutes ago. All I want to do is go home, take a long hard look at myself and sleep until I'm dead. So, I'm not looking for anything, friends or whatever," he finally finishes. I know he meant to put me off but it's left me nothing but charmed.

Regarding me with a self-satisfied smile, he turns to march off but suddenly stops, twisting around to face me.

"And even if I was, you're not even close to being my type."

Chuckling softly, I run a hand through my hair.

"I'm not your type? Why's that?" I wonder aloud, in a bid to get him to stay with me a little longer.

"Seriously?" He snorts with an ached brow.

"No really, I wanna know. I'm tall, dark and devilishly handsome, which makes me everyone's type."

His mouth drops open to let out a derisive scoff as he shoots me the filthiest of looks.

"Wow, could you be more full of yourself?"

"Give me a minute; I'm sure I can be," I reply with a sly smirk.

Narrowing his eye he circles his hand in front of me. "It's your whole look, I'm not into whatever this is." He explains, trying to shoot me down.

"Please, I look fantastic, you're the one who looks uncomfortable."

"My friend dressed me, this isn't what I usually like to go out in," he quickly replies in order to set me straight.

"So, this isn't what you normally look like?"

He shakes his head. "Not really, no."

I'm curious, who is he really? Is the miserable thing just an act? He looks so well put together, I wonder what it would take to mess him up, even a little?

"Then what are you normally like?" I wonder.

"What do you mean?" He asks with a hint of annoyance in his tone.

"You're guarded up so tight; I just figured it was a defence mechanism. So, I want to know what you're normally like, who are you?"

"I don't know anymore," he confesses, almost sadly. I'm taken aback by his response; it wasn't something I expected to hear and it further intrigues me.

"Don't you think it's time you find out?"

"I wouldn't even begin to know how," he sighs.

Titling my head to the side and running my eyes over him, I take a step closer. His body shivers but he remains as still as he can. There's something about him that stirs me. I want to get to know him, touch him and see what he looks like laying naked across my sheets. However, before any of that can happen, I need to get him to see me again.

"There's a club night at Slaughterhouse-Five on Saturday, come with me," I invite him with a smile. "You can even bring your friend," using my head to motion towards Claude and his new friend.

"No thanks, I'd rather not."

"What, go out with me or bring your friend?"

"Both," he smiles genuinely. I didn't think he could and I know I have one last chance to get him to come out with me.

"What do you have to lose? Come on, do something different for once."

Rolling his eye and emitting a soft sigh, he nods.

"All right but as long as I can bring friends," he agrees and I've finally got him.

"Bring as many as you like, I'll put your name on the list," I smile. "You know, I've never had to work so hard for someone to agree to go out with me before, most people tend to fall for the bad boy."

"I am not most people," he smirks.

My eyes lower as I take him in. He's beautiful, challenging and stubborn as hell, certainly not like anyone I've ever met before and it excites me.

"No, that you are not," I pause and then lean into his ear. "Are you ever going to tell me your name?"

"Ciel," he answers despite himself.

"And are you going to give me your number?" I purr sweetly.

Exhaling loudly, he bobs his head and I reach into my back pocket for my mobile, unlocking it and handing it to him. Ciel types in his name and number, saving it to my contacts and thrusting it back into my hands. His eye glances over to our friends who are kissing as though they invented it and he shakes his head.

"If they ever come up for air, let the blond know I left."

"You're leaving?"

"I'm tried and all I want is a hot bath," he groans.

"Do you feel like company? I know a way to make that bath even hotter," I simper, hoping he'll take me up on my offer. Well, one can try after all. With a little toss of his head shifting the fringe from his brow, Ciel leans into me with a sly smile.

"Nice try," he smirks, turning to make his way towards the exit.

"See you Saturday," I call after him and with a slight dip of his head, he nods an acknowledgement before rounding the corner for the stairs.

I move to the wall and rest my back against it. My head drops and my cheeks ache from the foolish grin I know is plastered on my face. Fuck, he's perfect. A challenging miserablist, just what I need.

"What's got you grinning?" Bard asks me from the side, tucking a cigarette behind his ear.

"Would you believe I met someone?" I reply with an amused smile.

"Didn't think that kid would be your thing," he remarks with a grin. "He didn't even look old enough to be in here, you sure he's street legal?"

"I'm sure."

"Good luck to you. He looks like the type that'll treat you mean to keep you keen."

"That's exactly what I'm hoping for," I reply with a wink.

"I don't get you sometimes," he chuckles, shaking his head.

"What's to get? I like it when I have to work for it, otherwise, it isn't worth the taste."

"You're a weird fucker," he smiles, pushing himself from the wall and past me. "I'm going out for a smoke," he calls over his shoulder, walking to the stairs.

Pulling out my mobile, I go to the contacts and look at the newest entry. _Ciel Phantomhive_ I read as I let out a dry chuckle. Now I'm excited for Saturday.


	7. Show The Blessed I Got Devil’s Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I want you laid bare; I want to make you mine."

"Hey careful with that!" Bard admonishes a fresh-faced youth as he tries to take apart the mic set up for his drum kit. In his haste, the kid accidentally drops a mic on a high hat; the steely clang reverberates throughout the empty room making everyone jump.

The label sent lackeys to help us set up for rehearsals and the performance itself. I guess we're too cool to do our own set ups anymore. They scurry around the stage like mice, gathering everything together and setting up for the opening act. Despite the initial mic drop, they've been quite good in making the change over as seamless as possible.

Saturday came surprisingly quickly and it's the day we debut as a properly signed act. Everyone seems to love soaking up their fifteen minutes of fame, whereas I prefer to be exactly where I am at the bar working on a set of lyrics. Tapping the back of my pen down on my notebook, I play out the rhythm of the song in my head and make some minor adjustments. With each change comes another line crossed out. I'm messing up, I'm unfocused, totally distracted and have been since Thursday night.

I've been preoccupied with thoughts of my miserablist. The kid twists me up so tight I'm nearly wrung dry and I like it.

Smiling to myself I wonder if he'll even show? I sent him a quick text with the location and time, and asked if he was coming but Ciel simply replied with 'maybe'. This eager anticipation is about all I can stand, as I will the time to move faster. Looking over my shoulder I can see the set up for the first band is complete. In a bid to impress, I've made sure the fact he's here to see us play stayed a secret. This was no mean feat on my part as Ciel's blond firecracker friend has spent the last few nights attached to Claude. However, he seems willing to keep the secret to surprise him as well, a gesture I find amusing, it's like he's almost human.

A hipster with two-toned hair, thick-rimmed glasses and a sharp black suit comes over to me, resting his back against the edge of the bar.

"You're Sebastian, right?" He asks me with a grin.

"Yeah," I nod, still trying to focus to my mind on something other than Ciel.

"I'm Ronald," he holds his hand out to me. "I'm the front for We Hate You, Please Die."

"I know who you are," I reply, giving his hand a firm shake. "I watched you rehearse, you guys are good."

His eyes light up behind his glasses. "Yeah? You think so? That's such a compliment coming from you."

"Me?"

"Well yeah, I heard you guys on the 6 Music emerging artists show the other day. Fucking brilliant mate, fucking brilliant." Ronald enthuses.

"Of course they were brilliant!" Our manager interjects, coming up from behind me. Throwing his arm around my neck he jerks me into him, tossing his long slivery hair over his shoulder. "Haven't heard a sound like 'em before, which is why I signed 'em."

You can divide managers into two types; first are the Svengali nutcases like Malcolm McLaren and Phil Spector or the straight-laced accountant types like Brian Epstein. Luckily, for us, the label deemed us worthy to have both types.

Undertaker, as he prefers to be called, embodies the first type and is totally mental. We have many theories as to why this is but I suspect it's because he did more blow than Elton John in the late 80s. The other curious thing about him is his age; no one is entirely sure how old Undertaker actually is. He often regales us with tales of Gin soaked nights with The Prodigy, as well as pogoing with The Damned at 100 Club in the mid-70s. I like his look though. He's a tall, lanky man with very long grey hair - grey hair that covers his eyes and reaches down to his ass. He's dressed in a tight black t-shirt with matching leather trousers and black patent thigh boots with buckles and straps looping around his legs. Undertaker is my kind of manager; he has a hands-off approach and just lets us get on with it, something I greatly appreciate as his counterpart is a giant pain in my ass.

The soft trill of a mobile phone sounds off in Undertaker's pocket. Grinning, he pulls it out and answers it, nodding; he taps me on the shoulder and leaves us.

"That guy's odd," Ronald notes, watching him go.

"Yeah but he's pretty good at what he does, so I can't complain." I smile.

"Oi! Ronald! You planning on joining us at some point?" Someone shouts from by the stage. He's also in a black suit with glasses; it must be their uniform or something. Ronald rolls his eyes and runs a gloved hand through his hair.

"Sorry mate, maybe we can talk some other time?" He grins.

"Yeah," I nod. "Have a good show tonight."

"You too, I'm so fucking excited!" He shouts over his shoulder as he heads over to his band mates.

Another loud clang and tirade from Bard later, I know I need to get some air. Dropping my pen down on the countertop, I rub my eyes. After a moment they open to see the other person the label stuck us with, the bane of my existence and Undertaker's counterpart, the far too serious William T. Spears. Not one strand is out of place on his perfectly coifed hair or a speck of lint on his crisp suit. What he's doing with a Goth band is the great enigma of our signing. He hates me and the feeling is well and truly mutual.

"Can I help you?" I ask with an arch in my brow.

"Have you gone over my notes?" He questions in an acerbic tone whilst adjusting his glasses.

"If you mean the scrap of paper with meaningless scrawling on how to come across in interviews, then yes I did," I smile.

"Oh?"

"I filed it in the bin."

"Sebastian, I need you to take this seriously."

"Who says I'm not?"

"There have been some complaints from other members-"

"You mean Claude," I interrupt.

"No, I mean other members-"

"Claude," I cut him off again, my head turns to look for the nagging bastard but I can't seem to see him.

He sighs. "All right, yes, Claude has raised some concerns about your attitude and personally, I think there are some improvements to be made in how you come across in interviews."

"Is that so?" I snort.

"Oh my God Claude, this place is amazing," A voice gushes from behind. Turning I see the blond firecracker from the other night in the middle of the room with two girls, another blond and a brunette. Looking around, the firecracker spots me at the bar.

A big grin streaks across his face, he saunters over to me with an over articulated switch in his hips. I slide off my stool and push past William as the blond stands in front of me. He bats his eyes slowly and extends his hand.

"You must be Sebastian," he states, placing his hand in mine. "I'm Alois, Alois Trancy."

"Nice to meet you formally Alois," I smile. The two girls accompanying him walk up from behind. The one as blond as Alois is in a fitted black dress which accentuates every curve of her perfectly formed body. The brunette is shorter, her dress is belled out from her waist and her face is round and childlike, they couldn't be more opposite.

"Sebastian, this is Lizzie," Alois motions to the blond who leans in to kiss both of my cheeks, giving my shoulders a little squeeze in the process.

"Pleased to meet you," she smiles, studying my face.

"And this is Sieglinde," he introduces the brunette who holds her hand out for me to shake but instead, I take it into mine and bend to plant a delicate kiss on her knuckles. Blushing furiously she giggles and snatches her hand back.

"I will have you know I am taken," she informs me in a thick German accent.

"Is that so?" I smirk. "Then they are very lucky."

She wraps her arm around Lizzie's tiny waist and pulls her into her.

"Yes, she is quite lucky," she smiles, causing Lizzie's rouged cheeks to burn bright red.

"Oh Sieg, stop it," she admonishes with a giggle. Sieglinde responds by nuzzling her neck, running the tip of her nose along the side.

"I can't take you two anywhere," Alois sighs, rolling his eyes.

Looking around, I don't see the familiar pout of my miserablist.

"Has Ciel come with you?" I ask, not seeing a glimpse of him anywhere and trying to stifle my disappointment.

Alois shakes his head. "No but don't worry, he'll show."

"You seem sure."

"If there's one thing I know about Ciel, it's that he's good to his word."

Before I can say anything more, I feel a sharp tug on my elbow and I'm lead away from the group.

"We haven't finished," William reprimands, dragging me to the other end of the bar.

"I was talking," I snap.

"How is it you can be so charming to those people but an absolute pillock when interviewed?"

"I like them," I shrug and he grimaces.

"Look, I don't like you-"

"You don't say?" I simper.

"And I don't pretend to like you but I was assigned to your band and it's my job to ensure you're a success. So, if you could please stop being a giant horse's arse and just try a little, it would make everyone's life a little easier."

I know it's not William's fault, I'm sure we're out of his comfort level as he normally works with Classical music artists. I feel for the guy, I really do. Undertaker is unstable on the best on days, I honestly can't be fucked, the rest of the band, _well_ , and he's stuck with us. Still, that doesn't mean my hand doesn't itch to high five his face on occasion.

"I'll try harder," I concede, deciding it easier to just get on with him for the time being.

"Thank you Sebastian," he says dryly. "Now can we talk about your set list?"

"What about it?" There's that itch in my hand again.

"You didn't include the single."

"I don't like it," I dismiss.

"It doesn't matter if you like it or not, you still have to promote it," he advises. "Just put it between-"

"I'm not changing the set list," I state.

"Yes you are," he says firmly. Simply snorting and shaking my head I push past him and go behind the bar.

"What are you doing?" He huffs; watching me as I select a bottle of what I hope is something strong.

"I need a drink, you're doing my fucking head in," I reply, leaving the bar, bottle in tow as I head for the curtain partition.

"Where are you going?" He demands to know.

"To drink in peace," I answer over my shoulder but then I stop, in my annoyance I almost forgot something. "If Ciel does turn up, let him know I had to do something. I'll be back shortly," I give my most charming smile to the kids who stare back at me with a blank look. They nod nevertheless and I disappear behind the curtain.

…

Making my way through the busy streets of Camden, I take comfort in the eccentricity of this place. Walking down the street chugging a bottle of what I now realise is whisky seems the norm here. Nobody knows me and nobody cares to know me, it's bliss. Over the last few months it has been nothing but interviews and promotional performances. My name is making its way into popularity along with the band, no doubt due to William's heavy promoting. It's only a matter of time where moments like this will seem like a memory.

Getting down to Regent's Canal, I walk along the pathway down the stairs and along the locks.

I like to come here to cool my head and empty my thoughts. It's peaceful and quiet despite the noise from above. Getting to my spot, I lean against the wall and stare out over the rippling water. This shit is starting to get to me. It was supposed to be about the music and the enjoyment of what we do and now it's being put through the system, processed, and manufactured. I must be an idealist, thinking things would be different but they're not. We're being paraded around like show ponies, the latest next big thing and we've yet to release an album yet. I'd walk away, chuck it in but it wouldn't be fair on the others who've worked just as hard. What is my problem? This should be what I wanted right? This is the dream, isn't it? Feels like a bloody nightmare.

"Ugh, fuck this," I groan aloud, resting my head against the cold stonewall. Taking another swig of whisky, I gulp it down and hold the bottle up to my face. Giving it a little swirl, I become transfixed by the dark amber liquid inside in a bid to occupy my mind with something else.

I wonder if he'll really show? His friends seem to think so, but I'm not convinced. Smiling, I think about what he'll look like. Will my miserablist wear the same dissatisfied look as when I first met him? I hope so. I know that his haughty demeanour would put off lesser beings, but not me, I love a challenge.

What will he taste like? Will he be as he smells - soft, sweet and decadent? He has made it clear he doesn't really want anything to do with me, so what I can do to change his mind? He's not the type to be easily swayed by my charms, he might be a lost cause but I can't seem to let this one go, what can I do to win him over?

Looking up at the sky I can tell it's getting late, I'd better get back or I'll catch hell from William. Patting myself down I find my spare pen tucked away in my back pocket, pulling it out and holding the lid between my teeth, I mark the bottle at the level of the liquid and screw the top back on with one hand. Searching around for a place to store it, I hide the bottle in a small enclave and head back to the club.

…

As I approach the club I spot William standing out like a sore thumb amongst the crowd waiting to get in. His arms are clenched tightly around his chest as his eyes dart around, looking for me I suspect. His gaze lands on me, and he drops his arms in a huff.

"Where have you been?" He snaps.

"For a walk," I reply over my shoulder, passing him. Stomping up behind me William plants his hand firmly on my back and pushes me past the security guard and into the club.

"Your complete lack of professionalism baffles me. I hope to God you pull it together when you're on stage."

"You'll have to wait and see, won't you?" I jibe.

"Honestly Michaelis, I don't get you."

"What's to get?" I grin.

Shuffling me down the corridor, past the curtain and into the club, he ushers me to the other members of the band but I stop dead, sending him straight into my back.

I see him, my pouting miserablist. He came after all.

"Why did you stop?" William keeps pushing into me but I shrug him off. A smile creeps onto my lips as I move past the others who start to fill the club and make my way over to him. I need to hide my enthusiasm at his being here; I don't want him to know how much he's been on my mind these last few days.

I don't rush, choosing to take my time. My eyes linger on him, his back to me as he stands at he bar. He seems different than when I first met him, more comfortable and at ease in the clothes he wears but his pout is still there. So engrossed with tapping the edge of a beer mat on the bar top, he doesn't realise I'm standing behind him. Taking a moment to breathe him in, I still catch the scent of tea with a hint of sweetness and chocolate.

"You made it," I purr sweetly into his ear. He drops the beer mat sliding to the side to face me. His eye lowers as he takes me in; a slight smile creeps onto his lips and rests his arm up on the bar.

"What's with the rosary?" He asks. What, not even a good evening? Still planning on making this difficult for me I see.

"What can I say? I've been known to commit a lot of sins," I reply with a devilish smirk.

"Ha," he retorts dryly.

"I'm surprised you came," I smile and he arches an eyebrow in response.

"Oh?"

"Well you made it clear you don't want any friends or whatever," I say languidly, moving closer to him. "I didn't think I'd see you again."

Ciel lets out a soft snort as he takes a little step to the side. He's trying to hide it but I can see his cheeks as they flush.

"What kind of club night is this anyway?" He mumbles. Leaning against the bar, I rest my elbow on the top and let my hands dangle down.

"It's a band night," I answer, running my hand though my hair. Glancing over to him I notice a look of worried fear on his face. "Don't worry, there's only two tonight," I add, figuring his fretting over how long he'll have to listen to music he's not really into. I know this isn't his crowd or his scene, which makes me even more so pleased he's come. Ciel talks a good game but he wouldn't be here if he weren't the least bit interested.

He studies me, his gaze firmly on my hand.

"What's that?" He asks.

"It's the tetragrammaton, a variation of it anyway," I reply.

"There you are Sebastian; I wondered where you fucked off to." Bard grumbles as he approaches us.

"Bard, have you met Ciel?" I introduce.

He nods with a grin. "Ciel and I go way back," he pauses as his eyes dart to the both of us. So, how long have you two been fucking?"

Ciel coughs, hitting his chest to help him breathe as his face flushes bright red.

"We're not, uh, we just-"

"Why do you have to be such an ass, Bard?" I interject, trying to save Ciel from any further embarrassment.

"What? He knows I'm just fucking with him, right Ciel?" He laughs and I sigh shaking my head.

"Don't mind Bard, he's crass for the sake of it."

"Quite," Ciel clears his throat.

"He's from Los Angeles, the home of no culture," I jest.

"Fuck you buddy," Bard snips with a deep frown. There's a little chuckle from Ciel and we both turn to him with a mixture of amusement and surprise on our faces at the fact he can laugh at something. "Looks like the boy's got a sense of humour."

"Only slight," Ciel smiles.

"Well let's get a drink in ya and see if we can improve on it," Bard chuckles, landing a few sharp slaps to his back sending him forwards.

The lights dim and a hush comes over the crowd as an emcee takes the stage.

"Welcome to Slaughterhouse-Five, how's everyone tonight?" He shouts. The audience whistle and cheer. "Excellent! We have an awesome show for you tonight starting with We Hate You, Please Die, followed by the main event, Devil's Blood!" The audience scream loudly at the mention of our name. I never thought I would feel as excited as I do, but hearing the crowd cheer for us, it's exhilarating.

The emcee amps the crowd up with their traditional attitude check. As we all flick a two-fingered V at him and shout back a resounding fuck you, I steal a quick glance at Ciel who looks completely unamused. His brow is furrowed in perplexed confusion and I think I may have even caught a little eye roll.

"Police check!"

"Fuck me!" The crowd shout back and everyone bursts out into a roar of laugher.

"I suppose that'll do. Now let's get started. Welcome to the stage, We Hate You, Please Die!" The emcee announces and then leaves the stage, letting the band come on.

They begin loud and hard.

Ronald grips the microphone tightly in his gloved hands as he screams his lyrics into it. I like their sound, the way they use static and hiss to create a rhythm and the bass providing a solid beat - it's clever. As I nod along to the music I see a fleck of blond pass me as Lizzie pulls Sieglinde on to the dance floor. Alois has already ensnared Claude, grinding against him whereas Drossell and Bard hang out along the sidewall.

Rolling my head to the side, I trail my eyes over my miserablist as the band begins their set. Ciel doesn't strike me as the type to dance and judging by his lack of movement at the club the other night, it's a safe bet he won't want to. However, this may be the only chance I get to feel him and have him close. Taking my chances, I lean over to his ear.

"Do you want to dance?" I ask.

"Do I look like I dance?" He returns. I figured as much but I've decided I'm not taking no for an answer.

"Fair enough," I smile and put my hand on his back pushing him forwards. Ciel staggers a few steps but enough for me to slide behind him. In a quick motion I hook my fingers into his belt loops and pull him against me. His back thumps against my chest as I wrap my arms around his waist.

Tensing up, his whole body is rigid but I give him a little squeeze to comfort him. The band starts a new song with more of a movable beat and I rock my hips from side to side taking him with me.

I like the feel of him on me and how my arms envelope him.

His hips press firmly against mine as we move and it's making me crazy. Ciel starts to relax into our rhythm and I start to feel bold. My hands lay flat on his hips and then they creep around to the sides of his waist. He gives an approving hum and as I'm an opportunist, I take advantage of his permission and slide my hands down to the tops of his thighs. His head rolls back as he looks at me with a wide blinking eye.

"What are you doing?"

Bowing my head, I smile. "Feeling you."

Ciel's body rocks with a shudder causing him to slip down but I catch him, holding him tight in my arms. He keeps his head still tilted towards my face; he closes his eye as his lips curl into a small smile. This kid, this fucking kid. He's driving me out of my mind. With the slightest of smiles and the feel of him against me, I know I'm fighting a losing battle with my self control. Running my hands up the length of his sides, my fingers burn to feel the skin under these clothes and explore every part of him. Each touch and shake of his hips makes my thoughts turn to the debauched and depraved as I watch him enjoy himself to the rhythm of the music. There is a faint vibration of a satisfied hum against my chest, it's like he's purring. Ciel's hands reach back and graze against my thighs as he rubs me in just the right spot and this is about all I can stand.

However, before I know it, the audience cheer and the set is done. I don't want to move, not wanting him off my body. Bard comes over to us with a knowing look written on his face, it's our turn I guess.

"I need to borrow him for a bit," Bard grins. Giving Ciel a gentle squeeze, I move him to the side. The distance between us already felt.

"I'll see you in a minute, try not to miss me," I whisper in his ear just before letting him go.

Bard leads me to the others who are waiting by the side door. Giving it a quick pull, he opens it and we head backstage.

It doesn't matter if it's a gig where we're crammed in the back of a tiny pub, or in a large place like this, the feeling is the same. The excitement hits like rush of blood to the head, it can make you dizzy or it can make you feel powerful but either way, it's a high. As everyone changes and readies themselves, I lean against the wall and try to clear my mind, still feeling the weight of Ciel against me.

My eyes drift down and I can see the glint from shiny black polished shoes standing in front of me. Looking up I see William standing with his arms folded, waiting to be acknowledged.

"You are ubiquitous," I smirk.

"Will you please reconsider including the single in the set list?" He requests as politely as he possibly can with a fraying patience. I give him a hard stare and then nod.

"Yeah, all right," I agree. His face instantly scrunches up as though he caught a whiff of a bad smell.

"Are you messing with me?"

"Not at all dear William, I would be happy to perform it."

His eyes narrow as he looks at me suspiciously.

"Michaelis, are you high right now?" He asks. "Just tell me what you took and-"

"I'm not high but thanks for the vote of confidence," I snort.

"Forgive me, I didn't realise you'd do as asked for once."

"Don't get me wrong, I'm not doing this for you-"

"All right kiddies gather round," Undertaker chuckles, waving his arms to make us huddle close. "This is your first performance as a signed act, don't fuck it up."

"The hell kind of pep talk is that?" Bard grumbles.

"The best you're going to get from me," Undertaker laughs. "Now get out there and make me proud."

"Wait, there's a change in the set list," I interject and I'm met with curious stares from the group. "We're dropping Only Hollow and doing What I Want instead."

"Oh the single, excellent, excellent!" Undertaker excitedly slaps me on the back. "I wondered why it wasn't included in the first place."

"Why indeed," William mutters under his breath.

"Well we are now," I smile.

Walking into the corridor and down towards the stage entrance, we wait to be called on.

"Attitude check!" The emcee exclaims from the stage.

"Fuck you!" The crowd shouts back.

"You ready?" Bard asks me from behind and I nod. The crowd clap their hands and shout but in my mind, it's silent as I steady my nerves.

"All right, I know who you're waiting for so let's bring 'em out, put your hands together for Devil's Blood!" He introduces us, the fine hairs stand on the back of my neck as I roll my shoulders and step out onto the stage.

Deciding to get straight into it, Bard pounds out a thump on his kick drum and we begin. Getting close to the mic, I keep my voice low as I sing into it. I'm not a screamer, preferring to keep my voice clean and clear. The audience move and sway along to the music as they sing along with me. I feel like a snake charmer, making them dance to the cadence like hypnotised serpents under my spell.

We're good, a finely polished act our managers can be proud of. Drossell provides the rhythm as Bard and Claude create a beat. I let the words pour from my lips as I add the style, plucking out various chords on my guitar. I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy this, I love it. The command and hold we have over the audience is spectacular. Huge speakers along the sides of the stage rattle the floor as everyone moves to our sound like they're possessed, completely taken over by the music.

Glancing down I see Ronald and the other members of his band thrashing about to the music.

Ploughing through the set list and finishing a few songs, we pause for a quick breather. Bending over I grab the water bottle by the base of the mic stand, unscrewing the lid and taking a sip.

"You might know this next one," I smile at the crowd, sitting the bottle back down and clearing my throat. "It's called What I Want."

The audience erupt into a boisterous cheer giving us their approval for the next song and we begin.

Fingers slide along the neck of my guitar, stretching, and pressing down on the strings as I switch from chord to chord. Glancing down, I see a group of women in the front waving their arms and shaking their hips actively trying to catch my attention. Lowering my eyes, I give them a little smile before my gaze travels over to the bar; seeking out the one person I want to see.

Ciel is still by the bar, his eye unblinkingly staring at me with the small trace of a smile on his lips. Holding his stare, my hand gently caresses the top of the mic. I can't wait to sing the next line as it's for my miserablist; I want him to hear it, to feel it reverberate through him.

" _I'm desperate to feel you again, for you to know my touch_ ," I sing softly, making sure my eyes never leave his. " _I want you laid bare; I want to make you mine_."

Arms are waving, everyone dances and sings with me but I couldn't care less about them, there's only one person I'm performing for. I can see him swallow, his face lit perfectly by the lights. He's under my spell now; I've managed to draw him in.

Closing my eyes and letting my hand drop from the mic, I graze my fingers over the cold steel of the handle, stroking it gently.

" _I've got you in my sights and I won't let you get away. I want what I want, I always get what I want_ ," I finish the last line of the song with a long drawn out burst of air. Transitioning into a new song, we carry on with our set. Each new song drives the next one, we stomp our feet and play to the crowd and then it's over. The audience screams loudly and we make our way off the stage.

"Fuck that was amazing!" Bard declares excitedly as we get backstage. "Did you see how much they love us?"

Ignoring him I grab a towel from the side table and dab my face before quickly dropping it and heading for the exit to the main room.

"Where're you going?" Drossell asks me, following behind slightly. I don't reply, keeping my mind focused on only one thing. Have I done enough to entice him? I wonder, pushing the door open and disappearing off into the crowd.

I'm not a romantic. I don't believe in love at first sight or fairy tale stories. I hate anything cliché, sappy sentiments and sayings are trite and meaningless to me. However, as I make my way over to him, I feel like the room is moving in slow motion. The surrounding sounds are gone and what's left is only my breath with each exhale. My legs propel me towards him, drawn like a magnet. He smiles at Lizzie and my heart thumps hard in my chest. It's cliché, sure, but it's an amazing feeling and something I can get used to.

My thoughts are impure as my eyes study him. I can't imagine what he'd be like underneath me, how he would move or the sounds he would make. Will he purr at the gentlest of touches? Will his voice go hoarse as I make him scream? I don't know but I'm desperate to find out, if he'll let me. I want to be addicted to him; I want him in my veins.

Have I done enough to make him interested?

Lizzie's eyes roll to the side and light up when I come into view. "Hi," she smiles. "You guys were amazing."

"Thank you," I smile, coming up behind Ciel. Sliding next to him, I notice he's not looking at me but is fidgeting. "What did you think Ciel?" I wonder, leaning against the bar. My arm lightly taps against his and I can feel him quake with a shudder. I love the fact I make him nervous and I love how his body responds to even the gentlest of touch.

"Yes, you were quite good," he replies quickly. "Good show," he ends with the most perfect receded pronunciation.

"Pip pip and all that," Bard mocks, trying to put on his very best practiced Cockney accent, no doubt picked up from his occasional girlfriend Mey-Rin. "Care for a spot of fish 'n' chips, guv'nor?"

"Yes all right, I get it," Ciel mumbles under his breath, obviously embarrassed. Leaning into him, I give Ciel a gentle nudge and smile.

"I know it seems this giant excuse of a human being is a jerk, and he is, but it also means he likes you."

"Yeah kid, you're all right," Bard chuckles. "But I'll leave you two love birds alone, I'm going out for a smoke."

Bard leaves us but we're still surrounded by his friends and the club is jam-packed. I can see a group forming along the side of people who seemingly wish to get my attention but I'm desperate to get Ciel alone. His eye anxiously darts around the club, I'm sure he can see them waiting for their moment with me and perhaps he thinks he should leave me to it but I don't want him to go. In fact, I'm frantically searching my mind for any reason to get him to leave with me right now.

"Hey, can I take you someplace?" I suggest with a smile but he seems hesitant.

"I should probably stay with my friends," Ciel brushes me off. Glancing over my shoulder, I see his friends otherwise engaged and I know it's now or never, he's leaving with me.

"They seem busy," I say quickly as I take his hand, not giving him the opportunity to deny me again. "Come on, it's not far from here, I'll have you back before they even know you're gone."

"Okay fine," he sighs.

Without a second thought I pull him through the crowd and head for the curtain.

I don't have a plan and I don't know what we'll do but I know one thing, I need to get him alone. I need him all to myself.


	8. Because Your Kiss, Your Kiss Is On My List

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I will work and work hard, I will work him and work him hard.

Still without a real plan I drag Ciel through the empty streets of Camden with his hand firmly in mine. The kid is a flight risk as it is, if I loosen my grip, I'm sure he'll make a break for it. Keeping him close, I feel the side of his arm against mine. His body shudders and I realise I've pulled him out in the chill of the night without a coat or any thought as to where we're going.

"Are you cold?" I ask as I give his hand a tight squeeze.

"Aren't you?" He looks up at me with a wide eye. Fuck, I can get lost in him.

Shaking my head to steady my thoughts I smile back.

"No, I'm used to it; I do this a lot after a show."

"What drag someone down the streets of Camden?"

"No, you're the first," I admit with a chuckle.

Ciel quickly turns his head but I notice his cheeks burning with a blush I'll never tire of seeing. He tries hard to fight it but I think he's starting to warm to me. I'm getting to him, I know it but I still can't sense how close I am. He enjoys maintaining his distance but I wonder how long he intends on keeping it up.

"So, how long have you been in a band?" He wonders aloud.

"Years now I suppose. We all met at Uni and decided to form a band," I reply.

"And you play the guitar?"

"Actually, I'll have you know that I can play any stringed instrument and the piano," I smile.

"Wow, that's amazing."

"I guess," I shrug. I'm not being self-deprecating or humble; it's just something I've always been able to do. I love making sound, any sound and I just happened to be able to produce this sound with an instrument.

"I can play the violin," he blurts out, my eyes roll over to him.

"Oh yeah?"

Ciel nods. "I've been playing since I was ten."

"You're just full of surprises," I grin, bringing him closer to my side. I want to wrap my arm around him but I know I will not be able to control myself. I'll want to drag him down an empty alleyway, tear off his clothes and make him scream my name into the darkness. I know this area well, there are many places I could take him and act out this little fantasy.

Smiling, and letting my perverted thoughts run away with me, we go silent. Making our way past the bars along the canal and down a secluded side street behind them, I guide Ciel along the path.

"Where are we going?" He asks breaking our quiet as his eye looks around nervously.

"You'll see," I squeeze his hand with a wink. He seems unsatisfied with my response as he frowns, his bottom lip protruding with a small pout.

Getting to the tall iron gate which is blocking off of the rest of the pathway, I should have guessed they would have locked it up for the night. I didn't plan for this, well; I didn't plan for anything really. I had no idea what I was going to do once I got him out but I did remember my whisky from earlier so I thought I'd start there. Unfortunately, it's currently locked behind this gate and I have no way of getting to it. So far, this isn't working out as well as I would have hoped.

Letting go of Ciel's hand I walk over to the gate to double check the lock, not that I could break it open with any force but I make sure it can't be opened. Glancing over my shoulder to a shivering Ciel, I smile and think quickly. Grabbing onto the bars, the balls of my feet plant themselves along the sides and I climb up to hop over. Staring at him with a broad smile, I use my head to motion him over to me. I think I should have thought this plan through, looking at the confused and unimpressed look on Ciel's face, I should have guessed he wouldn't climb this gate. Especially seeing as though the kid looks about as able to climb a gate as I am to play pop music.

"No, absolutely not," he snorts, reading my mind.

"Why not?"

"In what world does it look like I climb gates?" He asks with a high arch in his brow.

"Come on, it's easy," I smile, hoping my charm will persuade him. Ciel folds his arms with a grin.

"I'm not disputing that, I just refuse to do it."

"It's fun over here, we have candy," I sing.

Taking a step forwards with a switch in his hips, he smiles and approaches the gate. His eye narrows staring at me hard.

"Oh, well in that case," he purrs, "hell no." He finishes sharply, a little smirk playing on his lips.

Drumming my fingers on the bars I desperately search my mind for a way of convincing him to join me. It may be a lost cause, the kid likes to tease and I get the feeling he knows I'm the type who likes to be played with. If he doesn't turn around and head back now, he'll just toy with me for a bit before he does. I can't believe I fell flat at the first hurdle as things were going so well, I muse, still desperately thinking of an alternative tactic before he figures out he can leave.

Ciel watches my mind tick over and then lets out a loud exhale, dropping his arms to his sides. Is he actually going to try to come over and join me? This is unexpected but very welcomed, I thought he'd at least put up a little more of a struggle but I'm not going to complain.

Stifling a chuckle as I watch his eyebrows knit in concentration, he tries to think of a way to negotiate himself up and over this gate. Deciding to mimic my earlier actions, Ciel grabs onto the bars and jumps up. Unfortunately, his feet loose their grip and slide back down. It's like trying to watch a baby giraffe walk for the first time, they know they have legs and an idea how to use them but in practice, they just keep flailing about. Ciel manages to get his hands on the top bar but he can't seem to pull himself up and he just hangs on the railing.

I start to laugh, there's no helping it, this little giraffe can't seem to get his feet to stick and he just keeps struggling.

"You know you could help," he mutters, continuing to try and pull himself up.

I shrug. "I could but this far too amusing."

Rocking himself back and forth for momentum, he finally manages to pull himself up to the top with an exasperated grunt. I'm howling now as I watch him straddle the gate and think about how to get down from there. Turning his head from side to side, he gages the height but he seems stuck. I'll help him down but I'm going to let him suffer a little first.

Catching me wipe a tear from my eye, Ciel huffs loudly.

"I'm so glad to be proving you with such humour," he scowls.

"I'm sorry but you just look so helpless," I chuckle.

"Well then help me you arse!" He demands. Nodding to acknowledge his order, I reach up to grab his waist and guide him down to his feet, resting him into my chest. We stay like this for a moment and then he pushes himself away from me, trotting on down the steps.

Getting to the bottom I take his arm and lead him down the empty pathway along the canal. Pressing his side against me, Ciel stays close as his eye darts around. I wonder what he thinks I've brought him down here for? It's quiet, empty and secluded. Now that I think about it, I'm starting to wonder what I brought him down here for myself. I know I can't be trusted with him, I have limited self-control as it is and there's no one around down here. Given my earlier thoughts, I know I'm up to no good down here.

 _Stop it Michaelis, don't spook him too soon_ , I think to myself. Walking under the draping tree branches which delicately touch the surface of the water, I bring him down the slope and finally to my spot.

"Here we are," I smile and he looks around. His eye is wide but any nervousness he had earlier seems to have gone.

"This is it?"

"What were you expecting?" I wonder, leaving his side to go over to the wall. Turning his head to take it all in, Ciel shrugs.

"Certainly not this," he states.

Leaning against the cold concrete wall and shoving my hands in my pockets, I cross my legs and close my eyes, filling my lungs to the brim with the night air. I feel the warmth of Ciel's body next to mine as he joins me. Cracking my eyes open slightly, I espy him. He looks out on the water, the yellowish light from the street lamp up top reflects in the ripples and casts a soft glow on his face. He is beautiful, now I have a moment to really look at him. His skin seems so smooth and flawless, completely touchable. My hands itch to run themselves over his body to feel for myself just how soft I imagine it to be.

He's the type I'd take my time with, savour every moment, every sound, every face and expression he'd make. I would memorise each curve and dip of his body and what I could do to make him sing. If given half the chance, I'd play him better than any instrument. Smiling, I close my eyes again and just enjoy the peace.

"Do you hear that?" I ask, he doesn't respond straight away, probably listening out for what I hear.

"No, what is it?" He finally replies.

"Silence, we're in the middle of Camden and it's quiet."

Ciel hums for a moment and then leaves me to go over to the edge of the pathway. Opening my eyes they follow him as he glances down at the water, the light bounces around him in small waves. There's this look on his face, it's peaceful but far away, he seems otherworldly, untouchable and guarded. This is the second time I've ever met him and he is more comfortable than before, however, he maintains his aloofness. I assumed his miserable nature was just for show but there's something about him which makes it seem like this is who he is actually is. I'll never win him over if he doesn't want to be won, I'll never get as close to him as I'd like if I can't find a way to get him to lower his guard.

Thinking of a way to loosen him up, I remember the whisky I tucked away earlier. Pushing myself away from the wall I feel around for the enclave I hid it in earlier.

"What are you looking for?" Ciel asks, watching me try to find the bottle.

"Something I put here earlier," I smirk. My hand slips into a hole and the tips of my fingers tap against the hard glass, I've found it. Pulling it out, I present it to him with a smile. "Care for a drink?"

"Absolutely not!" He snaps.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes I'm quite sure. What is it anyway?"

"Whisky," I wink with a cheeky grin.

"How long has it been there?"

"I already told you, I put it here earlier," I reply. Ciel crosses his arms in a huff as he frowns at me.

"How do you know no tramps have drunk it?"

"I marked it when I put it here," turning the bottle around, I point to the black marker line on the side. "See? No one's touched it."

Rolling his eye I can tell he doesn't believe me. Shrugging, I unscrew the lid and sit it down on the ground. Holding the bottle out to him, he declines with a raise of his hand and a shake of his head. Shrugging, I take a sip from and watch as his whole body jerks in disgust. I wonder what he makes of me? What's a singer in a Goth rock band who likes to swill whisky straight from the bottle have in common with a posh kid from Kensington and Chelsea? Absolutely nothing, really. I'm out of his comfort zone, I'm older, tattooed and probably everything his parents would have warned him about but he's still here.

"Is this what you do?" He wonders in a sarcastic tone.

"What do you mean?" I ask between sips.

"I mean is this what you do all day? Hide whisky under bridges and play in clubs?"

Leaning back against the wall, I swirl the liquid in the bottle around, studying it for a moment before looking up at him.

"How much would it bother you if I said yes?" I smile. He immediately reacts with a blanched look on his face. It's almost as though he's questioning every life choice he's made up until now, where he finds himself alone in a dark underpass with what he now assumes to be a whisky drinking degenerate. I can see the cogs in his mind work in overdrive to try and figure out a polite way to dismiss himself out of this situation, and quickly, but he seems to be at a loss for words. "Relax Ciel, I'm just fucking with you," I laugh, his brow furrows as he looks at me with a look of complete non-amusement on his face. Grinning, I holding the bottle out to him again.

Snatching it from me, he tugs on his cuff and wipes the bottle's lip with it.

"Fucking with me seems to be a theme for the night," he snorts just before glugging down a mouthful of the dark brown liquid. His face puckers as he tries to choke it down. Not his tipple I suppose.

"You do curse?" I chuckle, finding myself completely entertained by him. In a matter of minutes I've got him drinking from a stashed bottle I stole from the bar earlier and swearing, things are looking up. Ciel glares at me with a small playful smile and it's in this moment I feel like I'm making headway with him.

"I have been known to swear on occasion."

"What occasion would that be?" I smile, narrowing my eyes on him and taking a step in a bid to close the gap between us.

He smirks at me. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

God yes. I want to dig my hands deep inside him to know what makes him tick from the inside. Let me feel the wheels, the gears, and the cogs inside you. I want to touch each muscle, each bone, and the curve of your spine as I make your back arch. I'll take anything you have to give me, a mere scrap would sate me but didn't you hear the lyrics to my song? I don't want a mere scrap, I want it all.

"I would, I want to know all about you," I say lowly, coming up behind him.

My hand reaches out, fingertips burning to touch him. I delicately place them on the top of his shoulder blade and then glide them down the small of his back, feeling his body shudder. With a quick step he maneuverers himself away from me and to the wall, pressing his back flush against it to avoid my advances.

"Why?" He bravely downs another swig of whisky. My brow arches as I watch him.

"You intrigue me," I say, which causes a slight grin to creep onto his lips. Dipping his head Ciel hums softly to himself as he ruminates on my words.

"Is that so?"

"Yes," I try my chances again but he skirts past me. With each move he evades me making me a matador with a red cape as he ducks and dives past me.

"If you don't spend your time hiding booze and playing in bars, then what do you do?"

"Actually, I own a gallery," I answer, letting my arms fall to the side, I decide to wait a moment before I try again. Ciel takes another sip of whisky, this time it goes down with a cough and he tries to clear his throat.

"What kind of gallery?" He splutters.

"An art gallery, I specialise in Post War and Contemporary works."

He looks at me with a completely dumbfounded expression. I guess my response wasn't something he'd expect.

"You own an art gallery?"

"You seem shocked," I respond quickly.

"Well, yeah."

"I was an investment banker but it wasn't for me. I made my money and got out, now I'm able to indulge in my actual passions, music and art."

"Well, aren't you full of surprises?" He smiles genuinely. It's something I know he mustn't do often because it isn't forced or laboured, just sweet and inviting. I think now is a good time to try to entice again. Taking a step towards him my eyes remain locked onto his.

"Appearances can be deceptive sometimes; you shouldn't pass judgement on looks alone."

"I suppose you're right," he agrees, blinking nervously.

Stopping just in front of him and running a hand through my hair, Ciel passes the bottle back to me. Taking it, I sit it down beside my foot, my gaze never leaving his. Placing one foot between his I step into him, pressing his back against the wall. My hands find themselves on his shoulders, slowly sliding down to his elbows and pulling them towards me so that his forearms brush my sides.

Licking my lips, Ciel looks at me curiously as his cheeks start to redden. I can tell he wants to look away but he can't seem to. Instead, he allows me to move his arms around my waist. They feel good here, natural as I spread his hands across the small of my back.

"What do you think you're doing?" He manages to get out but I say nothing. Firmly pinning him, my hand trails down the side of his face. His skin is so smooth to the touch and his body starts to relax under mine.

It's curious; I never used to consider myself depraved and I certainly wouldn't say I have deviant thoughts, but I've used these words twice tonight and both times his body has been pressed against mine. Where else should it be? If I had my way, it would be lying out on my bed, twisted and tangled between my sheets. My body is still present, near him, on him, riding him, it doesn't matter what it's doing, it's there.

"You're so fucking beautiful, you know that?" I whisper letting my hand travel from his face to the back of his neck, drawing him closer. My lips part, waiting impatiently to taste his kiss.

Leaning into him and running my tongue over his lips, Ciel breathes out into my mouth just before I kiss him. Parting his lips to allow me in, my tongue slips through. He's just as I knew he'd be. I taste the Earthy peat of whisky following something all together different and sweet. I can easily devour him whole as I fight to eagerly sample more of his flavour.

Using my knee to spread his legs apart, my thigh rubs against his growing erection. Try as he might to maintain an air of detachment, his body has other ideas as it lets me know just how badly he wants me. Ciel's knees start to buckle but I don't let him drop, holding up with my chest against his.

He is perfect, a flawed beauty with a crooked smile he rarely shows. My hands travel over the sides of his waist before I clamp down and slam him hard against the wall. He lets out a soft whimper under my weight but I push into him. Pulling at my shirt, Ciel's fingers find their way underneath and run up my spine. His hands feel red hot against my skin, leaving a trail along the surface. His mere touch is driving me mad as we feel each other in the chill of the night. This kid possesses me; he disrupts my thoughts and haunts me but I'm going to need more than this.

My arms circle him, his hot breath exhales into my mouth, I grind my hips against him and he sighs out the sweetest sound making me growl. His kiss is intense, hungry but slow as he enjoys himself. He moves underneath me, grinding himself into my hips and riding me as we start to lose our inhibitions here. I feel how hard he is as it digs into me and I rub it with my thigh making him gasp and then exhale a breathy moan as he claws at my back, forcing me firmly on him.

Fuck, I have to stop, if I don't, who knows what I'm liable to do. Giving his bottom lip a little bite, I pull away from him with a smile. Ciel tugs me back onto him but I stop myself from submitting to his request.

"Why did you stop?" He pants, finally opening his eye to look at me. Bending over, I place my lips right next to his ear, gently nipping at the little stud piercing in his lobe.

"Always leave them wanting, then they'll want more," I coo just before pushing off of him and taking a step back. Taking a moment to regard my miserablist I can't help but smile at his flushed cheeks and dissatisfied pout on his red lips. I want to tell him not to worry, the night's not over and I have so much more planned for him but I'll wait. "Come on, let's get you back," I grin with a wink and hold out my hand. Ciel lets out a little chuckle, taking my hand and letting me lead him back to the gate.

…

We make it back to Slaughterhouse-Five in relative silence. I can't help but marvel how Ciel's hand fits so perfectly in mine. I don't want to let him go but the choice is taken from me the moment we pass though the curtain. Ciel sees Lizzie and breaks away from me without a second thought or glance over his shoulder. I'm hurt miserablist, I thought I'd at least get a little look from you before you disappear off into the crowd. Smiling, I quickly follow behind until a hand lands firmly on my shoulder.

"Where have you been?" William growls from behind me. I should have guessed it was him, even with all these people in the room, I can still smell his stench of holier than thou mixed with inadequacy.

"I went for a walk," I reply, turning to face him. There's an ever-present scowl on his face, which deepens as he looks me up and down.

"There are some people who want to speak with you," he mumbles, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

I shrug, eyes scanning the room for Ciel. "I'm busy."

"You have to meet with your fans Sebastian, this is the easiest thing I'm asking you to do, it won't hurt you."

"All right, five minutes," I concede on a heavy sigh. The corner of his lips twitch fighting to not let a smug smile appear, he isn't trying hard enough. Waving his hand to beckon a few black clad women to come over to us, William makes a very quick introduction before ducking out. Now I'm surrounded and I know I'm not getting out of this in five minutes or any time soon for that matter.

"You guys were really good," one woman coos as she gently touches my arm.

Flashing the most charming smile I possibly can, I lean into her, delicately tapping my side against her arm causing her to blush.

"Thank you, I'm glad you enjoyed it."

William thinks this is the easiest thing but it's not. I don't care for the attention or admiration; it's not what I got into this for. However, I know if I don't play the game, William will be on me with more obnoxious little corrective notes on how to come across and I don't need his coaching.

The next thing I know is I'm flooded with questions, what the songs are about, what are our influences and I try to answer them with as much flirtatious charisma as I can muster but honestly, through these questions, all I can think about is Ciel and how I can get over to him. My gaze darts to him over by the bar, he's close but so very far from me.

"Hey, tell me something," another woman whispers in my ear. She tugs my arm to pull me close to her. My eyes run the length of her body and I take her in. Jet black hair, ice blue eyes circled in smudged black liner, blood red lips and a tight black dress which begs to be torn off her with your teeth. "What can I do to get you to leave with me tonight?" She asks in a tone as soft as velvet, it resonates through me. Reaching up and touching the side of her cheek, I bend over to whisper my reply in her ear.

"Normally," I begin, "you wouldn't have to ask, I'd just lead you out."

"But you're not?" She questions with a sly smirk. Rolling my eyes over to the bar, hers follow and I shake my head.

"But I'm not."

"Huh, that's too bad," she shrugs, her gaze still lingering at the bar. "Maybe next time?"

"Maybe but if I'm able to have my wicked way with him, there won't be a next time." I add with a wink. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I should be getting back to him." I pardon myself from the group. They let out a collective whine of disappointment and I start to leave for the bar but before I make it out of the group, I see Ciel jet past me, disappearing through the curtain. Is he leaving?

Following after him I watch as he collects his coat, tucking it under his arm and heads for the exit.

"Ciel, where are you going?" I shout after him.

"Home, I've had enough of this night," he snaps, pushing the door open and storming down to the corner. There is no way I'm letting him go so soon.

"Let me come with you," I offer, jogging up behind him.

"Why would I want that?"

"Because, perhaps we could finish what we started earlier?" I place my hands on his shoulders to slow him down.

"You remember that?" He pouts, twisting out of my grip.

"What?" I stop.

"Nothing, never mind," he shakes his head.

"No, tell me," I insist.

"Really, it's nothing. Besides, I wouldn't want to keep you from your adoring fans." He continues to pout as he crosses his arms. He must have been watching me earlier. Mentally chuckling at his obvious jealousy, I decide not to make the situation worse and play along.

"My adoring fans?"

"You know, those women who practically threw themselves at you when we returned," he returns with a snort, he is jealous, how adorable. Pinching the bridge of my nose I let out a little burst of laughter.

"You're such a brat."

"Excuse me?" He snaps.

"Seems to me you're jealous," I smirk.

"I most certainly am not!" He defends but of course, I don't buy it. Taking a step towards him I stand just behind his shoulder.

"Then what's the problem?"

"There's no problem," he mumbles under his breath. I take another step so that my chest presses against his side.

"I like you Ciel, and I'm interested in no one but you," I reaffirm, running my hand down his back. I can feel his whole body shudder and I can't help but grin.

"Okay," he nods.

"Then let me come home with you."

"Fine," he begrudgingly agrees.

I'm going home with him; perhaps it isn't the best idea because my limit for self-control has now passed. I want him more than anything and I know he's going to make me work every step of the way but that's what makes it all worth it. I will work and work hard, I will work him and work him hard.

Moving past Ciel and over to the corner I flag down a black cab. Opening the door for my pouting miserablist, he gets in sliding over to the other side allowing me to sit next to him and I shut the door.

"Where to mate?" The driver asks and I glance at Ciel who sighs and answers.

"Holland Park."

"I figured you'd live somewhere posh," I grin. Ciel grunts and leans back against the seat. Watching him pout, I smile and wonder how long it'll take to get to Holland Park from here?


	9. This Is Where I Realize My Trouble Comes With Bluest Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Stop teasing me," he whimpers, raising his hips to push himself against my mouth.

We pull up to a very posh looking building and before I have the chance to say anything, Ciel hops out of the taxi making a break for the entrance. Paying the driver and getting out, I rush to catch up to him before he escapes.

I would make a flippant remark about him being Cinderella bolting from the ball before midnight but something tells me he’s not quite in the mood to play.

He was silent for the whole ride, chewing on his bottom lip as he kept his gaze firmly on the window. I could tell he was thinking hard about something, most likely whether or not it is wise to let me come home with him and how he could get out of it.

My strides are a lot longer than his as I sneak up behind him. He stops at the door, hesitating for a moment before turning only to walk right into me.

“What?” He grimaces, rubbing his forehead and taking a step back.

“Aren’t you going to invite me up?” I smile.

“No,” he returns brusquely.

Arching my brow, I look at him curiously. “No?”

Ciel bows his head, staring at the ground before sighing heavily.

“I don’t think it’s such a good idea,” he mutters to his shoes. Grinning, I take a step towards him.

“Why don’t you think it’s a good idea?” I ask him in the most honeyed tone. I find sweet-talking is good when I’m trying to seduce my prey.

“You know why,” he manages, still keeping his head down.

“I don’t, I thought we had a good night together.”

“We did,” he nods. Reaching out I place my hands on his shoulders and gently run them up the sides of his neck. His whole body shudders with each gliding stroke of my hands and I know I’m so close to getting him.

“Then what’s the problem?” I smile. Ciel blushes with a stern frown, he’s going to give into me, I can feel it. “Come on, let me come up.”

Ciel is silent for a moment and then finally nods. Grinning, I hold out my hand to escort him to the front door. He quickly moves through the reception at speed and even though my legs are longer I struggle to catch up with him. A punch of a button calls the lift and we get in. I watch Ciel in the reflection of the mirrored door. His eye darts to the ground and he rubs his thumb along the metal ring on his keychain. 

He’s nervous, should he be? I don’t have any plans for him yet but give me a moment, I’m sure I can think of something once I have him all to myself. Arriving at the top floor we step out of the lift and I notice there are no other doors on this floor. Just as I expected, the posh kid lives in a penthouse flat. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if there is a maid or butler awaiting his return behind the door.

“I own the whole floor,” he informs me, probably reading my expression.

“Do you live with anyone?”

Ciel shakes his head. “I used to live with Finny, um, my ex but he’s moved out so I live alone.” 

Quite a palatial place for just two people, this intrigues me. I’ve only met him twice now but I don’t really know anything about Ciel. I suppose this is my chance, I’ll get to see the kid behind the mask he wears. Unlocking the door and pushing it open, he ushers me through, promptly shutting it behind us. Making my way through the corridor and into the sitting room, I can’t help but notice the obvious theme of the place. This room is impressively bland, nothing stands out and there isn’t anything of colour or anything of him here. 

“It’s exactly as I thought it’d be,” I say aloud, running my eyes over everything.

“What does that mean?” He snorts, passing me to go towards the centre of the room.

My eyes land on a large mahogany display cabinet on the wall and I wander over to it. There isn’t a lot of stuff but what he does have looks as though it’s been carefully selected and lovingly looked after. There are statues of Greek muses, lots of books and even an antique camera perched on top of the cabinet. Everything is pristine, not even one fleck of dust has gathered anywhere on these items.

“I thought it would be beige with a lot of antiques,” I reply, running my fingers over the carved wood. “And I was right.”

“It’s a neutral colour,” he remarks sharply, putting his coat over the armrest of his unsurprisingly bland looking couch.

“There’s nothing really of you here,” I comment, my eyes catch on glint of a freshly polished silver tea set.

“What do you mean? All of it is me.”

“I mean it’s very, sterile in here.”

“Well that’s how I like it,” he snaps. “Finnian was the one with all of the things. I was never interested in stuff like that,” he finishes in a softer tone.

I wonder what he is interested in. There’s nothing in the room that gives him away, nothing to give me any insight on who he is a person. I was right the first moment I met him, he is guarded but it seems it’s not just people Ciel guards himself from.

“I see,” I nod; it’s the only thing I can think of as I move over to the bookshelf.

Examining the books, I pull some out to have a look before sliding them back. Even his books are beige. The classics, no more. Just the typical run of the mill standards. Although he does seem to have an impressive collection of the works from Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, they look like first editions as well but I suppose I would expect no less from him. Looking up to the shelf above, I see a picture, Ciel with a tall smiling blond with green eyes. He’s actually smiling with him, his arm is wrapped around his waist and the blond has his head on his shoulder. He looks genuinely happy, not the pouting miserablist I’m used to.

“Is this your ex?” I ask, holding out the picture.

Ciel storms over to me and snatches the frame out of my hands.

“Yes,” he answers looking at the picture. I can see the sadness behind his expression and how he rubs his thumb over the image.

“He’s kinda attractive,” I shrug, leaning against the cabinet. “In a pretty boy sort of way.”

That’s it Michaelis, pile it on. Nothing turns a person on more than when you taunt the ex.

“What’s your point?” He retorts, going over to the bookcase and sitting the fame back on the shelf.

“No point, just getting more information on the competition,” I smile, frantically thinking of a way to get this evening back on track.

"There is no competition, he broke up with me, remember?" He sighs with his eye still on the picture.

“But you still look at his picture,” I note, instantly cringing at the comment. What am I trying to do here? Play therapist or get him to bed?

Staying silent Ciel puts the frame face down and sighs. I don’t want to kill the night, which I’m so close to doing it seems. I need to get this night back on track before I lose him again.

Clearing my throat and walking up behind him, I grab Ciel’s waist and pull him into me. Fingers delicately move the collar from his neck and I run my tongue up the exposed nape, stopping just behind his ear. “Tell me, do you want to think about him or do you want to think about me?” I whisper in his ear, feeling his body shudder.

“You,” he mutters, rolling his head back onto my shoulder.

“Good,” I growl, nuzzling his neck and kissing a trail down to his shoulders. He sighs out and I love it, squeezing his hips, and grinding against him. His hand reaches up and he lets his fingers tangle in my hair, pulling and pushing me into him.

This is much better. The way he breathes and lays his hand on mine, he wants me. He starts to move my hand from his waist up under his shirt letting me feel him. I want to take my time but I’ve lost my resolve, this whole night he’s teased me. It’s in his look, his attitude and how he runs hot and cold in the matter of seconds, it drives me mad. He feels good under my fingertips; his skin is soft to the touch and boiling. Creeping up to his chest, I run over his nipples, playing with them gently before pinching them.

Ciel responds with a gasp and then a low moan, rubbing my neck with his other hand as he rubs against me. I lose myself for a moment, growling lowly and tasting the salt of his skin with my tongue. Closing my eyes and feeling him move I bite down on his shoulder. With a stunned shriek and a full body shudder, Ciel falls down to his knees, taking me with him.

Chuckling, I slink back as he turns over, staring at me with a wide wild eye. Ignoring his bewildered expression I take his ankles into my hands and pull his legs apart. He tries to lift himself up to watch me but I know if I give him a moment, he’ll only try and stop me. Instead, I crawl through his legs, narrowing my eyes on him and licking my lips. His Adam’s apple bobs as he gulps down a dry swallow. There is no worry on his face, no fear, or nervousness, just anticipation as I creep closer. His skin flushes and his eye bats slowly as a wry smile forms on his lips. He’s meeting my challenge. Well Ciel, what do you have for me?

I waste no time in unbuckling his belt and tugging his zipper down. His laboured breath breezes past my face as I slowly pull his jeans down, taking care to unveil him like the most carefully wrapped present. I always liked presents, especially when they come in such appealing packaging.

Once I get them down to his thighs, my eyes move from his to his cock. Ciel can protest, pretend he isn’t interested but his body has other ideas.

“Relax,” I coo as I descend upon him. Ciel draws in a deep breath, holding it, keeping his gaze firmly on me. Putting my hands on his thighs giving them a squeeze before I bend over. My mouth waters, I’m aching to taste him, I bet he’s delicious. Starting from the bottom, I run my tongue up the length of the shaft and back down again. I take my time to explore him, to learn the ridges, the slight curve, and the certain spots to make his body squirm.

"Stop teasing me," he whimpers, raising his hips to push himself against my mouth.

“Greedy,” I pull back with a smile. “Unfortunately, you’ll have to wait.” 

My lips gently kiss a path up his shaft, toying with him a little further. He whines a complaint, pushing his hips against my chest. Pulling back with a smile, I watch his face scrunch in annoyance at being denied.

"Please Sebastian," he begs softly as I make my way back up the head. I let out a satisfied hum as my tongue swirls around it before dipping into the slit.

“You taste delicious,” I growl before going in for another taste.

"You're torturing me!" He cries out. This is perfect; I have him exactly where I want him. I don’t mind teasing him a bit more just to see his delightful reactions but I’m almost at my limit too.

"Then tell me what you want," I taunt.

Ciel hisses through gritted teeth as his whole body tenses. Pounding his fists on the carpeted floor in frustration, he works up the courage to ask for what he wants.

"Your mouth," his hoarse voice states. With that, I devour him until the tip hits the back of my throat. I swallow him down, working him with my tongue as my lips suck hard.

"Be rough with me," I order with a low hum. My perfectly controlled miserablist starts to come undone with each bob of my head. His hands pull my hair to force himself deeper. He whines through held breath as he bucks and writhes, fucking my mouth like my lips were meant to suck him. I enjoy the vulgarity and the total abandon he displays. I can taste the tension build within him. To heighten the sensation he feels, I drag my nails down his thighs, gripping and pinching along the way. I massage him with my tongue flat against the shaft; his rasping gasps fill the air as my teeth rake up and down his cock.

I can certainly get used to this. Watching how he moves beneath me, feeling how desperate he is for the slightest touch of my lips, and hearing each gasp for breath fill his lungs before escaping through his parted wet lips. My hands move from his thighs underneath to his back, which arches, lifting him into me. It’s almost too easy, how I can control him like this but it’s enjoyable to watch. Ciel succumbs to me readily, panting with each buck and writhe of his body. I hold him down, my nails digging into his back causing him to hiss.

"Fuck!" He lets out, pulling my hair to force himself deeper. Grunting and swallowing him whole I can feel him getting close. He whimpers, whines with his eye squeezed shut, and my lips work to push him over the edge.

Come on Ciel, you’re so close now.

Drawing in a sharp breath, holding it in his lungs, his fists clench as he rides me but the doorbell suddenly sounds. You have got to be kidding me.

"Ignore it," I mumble with my mouth still around his cock and he acquiesces by bucking his hip into me and trying to settle back into our rhythm. The doorbell cries out under the weight of the jerk on the other side who seems hell bent on ruining this evening. "For fuck's sake," I grumble with utter annoyance.

Apparently unsatisfied with the bell they try a different tactic and hammer on the door instead. Whoever it is can fuck right off, I’m in the middle of doing something here. It’s been such an effort to get Ciel like this; I’m not letting go so easily.

"Ciel?" Someone calls from outside. My eyes flick up to his face to see it blanch the moment he hears his name.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit! Get off me!" Ciel rasps, scrambling to sit up and landing a powerful kick to my chest pushing me away.

"Who is it?" I ask with on hand on my chest and the other wiping my mouth. I’m annoyed now and with a kick to the chest to boot.

"Ciel? Are you there? I can hear something, please don't ignore me." The voice calls out again.

"You have to go," he urges. Looking around in complete confusion, I wonder where exactly I can go. We’re in a penthouse flat, I’m pretty sure there’s no second doorway out and I’m definitely not jumping out of the window. Pushing myself up to my knees, I run my hands through my hair to steady my pulse.

"Go where? Who is it Ciel?" I try again. I think it’s safe to assume the person at the other end of the door is someone important. Ciel stares back at me as his mouth drops open but nothing comes out. Instead, he drops his head, sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose.

"It's my ex, Finny," he finally answers and there it is, a name to the person behind the door.

Shaking my head and smiling, I narrow my eyes at him.

"Well it seems you have a problem."

"What?" He furrows his brow and I motion to his still pronounced hard on. "Fuck!" He curses, storming over to the couch. Ciel grabs a throw pillow and presses it against his hip.

"Yeah, that'll work," I chuckle, watching my miserablist become completely flustered by the situation.

"Will you shut up?" He barks and I slide my fingers over my lips to show him I’ll zip it.

"Ciel?" Finny calls to him again.

"I'm coming!" He responds.

"Well, you were," I huff. I don’t mean to be terse but this is a little ridiculous and I could take the mature high road, however, I’m not feeling so mature at the moment.

Ciel shoots me a dirty look in an effort to scold me for my comment but I retort with a dry chuckle.

"Just act normal, okay?" He frowns over his shoulder.

"I'll take my cue from you then, shall I?" I smirk and he stops, dropping his head.

"Please Sebastian?" He mumbles softly. Very well, I suppose this must be quite awkward for him and rather than adding to it, I decide to comply, getting up off the floor and sitting down on the couch. Leaning back, I run my hands through my hair once more before folding my arms across my chest. I try to look as nonchalant as possible or rather; I try to look like I hadn’t been on my knees with his cock in my mouth making him writhe and gasp in pleasure. Hopefully, I’m pulling it off. I’d ask him but I reckon he’d try to slit my throat with that pillow he’s clutching.

As Ciel leaves to go answer the door, my head drops back and I stare blankly at the ceiling. What an interesting situation I seem to have found myself in, I knew the kid was complicated but this is pushing it. I can’t hear what’s going on down the hall but I know the ex has made his way in. How do I play this? Old friend? No, that won’t work; he would have met me at some point. A random mate? Perhaps not. Maybe I should just leave it to Ciel; after all, this is his place and his ex, why do I need to explain myself? Then again, given his quick thought of the pillow disguise I’m not convinced he’s quick on his feet. To hell with it, let’s just see what happens. I’m already trapped here; I may as well lean into the madness.

Letting that final thought sit with me for a bit, I relax in my seat and listen to the mutterings from the corridor. I can’t really make anything out but it sounds like the ex is completely wasted. A few shuffling footsteps followed by a heavy thud against the wall later and the ex finally makes an appearance at the end of the corridor, propping himself up against the doorframe.

Green eyes narrow as they land on me.

"Nothing has changed except, except… who's this?" He points to me and then turns back to Ciel who’s wearing the same colourless expression as before. “And why are you holding a pillow?"

If you’re going to say anything Ciel, now’s the time.

“Uh,” Ciel utters and looks at me, his eye wide and pleading for me to come up with something instead. So very smooth.

_All right then._

“Who are you?” The blond asks me suspiciously, staggering his way through to the sitting room. Standing to my feet in an instant and holding my hand out, I approach him. I have no idea what to do here but maybe if I meet him head on; I’ll get out of here unscathed or something close.

“I’m Sebastian, Michaelis, Ciel’s friend.” I smile in a bid to defuse the overwhelming awkwardness in this situation.

The blond gives me a hard stare whilst ignoring my hand. Clenching his hands into fists and keeping them at his sides, he stumbles forwards looking like he’s readying to punch me in the face. My eyes shoot to Ciel who is standing frozen by the corridor entrance with the pillow still pressed firmly against his crotch. I doubt he still needs it given the overwrought tension in the room but I won’t be the one to pry it off of him. Instead, I try to read his blanched expression but he only manages a slow blink. So this is how one acts natural? It looks like I’m on my own here.

From the outside, this doesn’t look as bad as it could be, now if only Ciel could get the look of absolute guilt off of his face, we may be okay.

“You are Sebastian Michaelis, Ciel’s friend?” Finny repeats slowly, running through the statement aloud. Glancing down at his fists, his hands are clenched so tightly; the skin over his knuckles starts to whiten. Yup, I’m about to be punched. Great, I bet a black eye will go over well with William, who will probably assume I got into a barroom brawl.

“Finny wait, let me explain.” Ciel finally snaps out of his trance to interject an attempt at an explanation, however, it seems to have fallen on deaf ears as Finny staggers closer to me.

Well, this is the perfect end to a night. It held so much promise but now it’s on track to finish in the most clichéd fashion – a punch up with the drunk ex boyfriend. I’ll let him get a few touches in, especially considering what I was about to do to his ex; it’s just a matter of courtesy. After that, who knows but I’m getting out of here.

Standing here and bracing myself for impact, Finnian comes towards me with a clumsy lunge. Throwing his arms around me squeezing tight, he buries his face into my chest. What the fuck is actually happening here? Rolling my eyes to a stunned Ciel, they go back to the kid trying to expel the air from my lungs.

“Um,” I clear my throat to get his attention.

“It’s so nice to meet you Sebastian!” He giggles into me. Is this kid for real?

“You’ve certainly had a lot to drink, haven’t you mate?” I smile and try to peel him off me.

“Only a little,” he bobs his head, trying to count the number on his fingers.

“What’s a little? You smell like you sucked the pub dry.”

“I only had,” he tries to count again but drops his hands, giving up. “They kept giving me pints so I kept drinking pints.”

Side stepping over to the bookcase, I drag Finny along with me to prop him up against it. I keep my hand on his shoulder to anchor him, I know the moment I let him go he’s just going to fall to the floor.

“Who kept giving you pints?” Ciel asks as he comes into the room.

“I went out with mates from work,” Finny replies, rubbing his nose with the back of his hand. Ciel throws the pillow back onto the couch and pulls his shirt down to straighten up but that’s when I notice it. In his haste to answer the door, Ciel has forgotten to do something very important. Glancing back up to meet his gaze, my eyes narrow on his as I stare at him hard. Ciel frowns as he gives me a look of absolute confusion. Okay, I’m not telepathic so how do I tell him his zipper is undone without actually saying it?

 

 


	10. I’m A Happy Idiot To Keep My Mind Off You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Ich liebe dich, Ciel.”

Here we are in what could be called the epitome of fucking awkward and not how I wanted this night to go.

"What?" Ciel mouths whilst I continue to prop up his ex, keeping my hand firm pressed against his shoulder.

Narrowing my eyes, they lower to his crotch and then back up to his face. Ciel shakes his head with a frown, blinking back at me curiously. Furrowing my brow, I jerk my head downwards to direct his attention to his undone zipper. Come on Ciel, take the hint already.

Finny preoccupies himself by continuing to count the amount of drinks he's had on his fingers. Ciel finally follows my gaze down only to see his open zip with a bit of fabric from his navy blue boxers sticking out. He sucks in a sharp breath after registering what he's looking at and in one fluid swift motion, Ciel pulls the zipper up and adjusts his shirt over it. He checks Finny again to see if he noticed anything but he didn't. Although, even if he did, the kid is blitzed, there's not a snowball's chance in hell he'd remember anyway.

Leaning Finny alongside the bookcase, he braces against the wood panel. Feeling satisfied he'll hold, at least for now, I leave him and head towards the couch, massaging my temples with each step. I'm tired, this kid and the night have started to exhaust me. I need to sit down and drown this night in whisky, although from what I've gathered earlier, there probably isn't a drop to drink here.

"Why were you drinking?" Ciel asks, looking over his shoulder at me flopping down behind him.

"I went out with some co-workers," Finny sighs his reply and rubs his face with the back of his hand.

"How much have you had?"

Finny stares at his hands again. "F-four or five, I think, I'm not sure."

"Finnian," he shakes his head in disappointment.

"That doesn't seem like too much," I say aloud, more to myself than the room.

"It is if you don't drink," Ciel responds under his breath. "Why'd you drink so much?"

Finny shrugs. "They kept buying me drinks," he pauses for a moment letting his face fall. "They wanted to cheer me up because I was sad."

"I guess that's my fault," Ciel admits on a soft exhale.

"It's no one's fault, Ciel. It's just how it is." Finny looks down at his feet and then back up to us with a broad grin. "Anyway, am I interrupting something? Are you having a party?" He giggles. No seriously, is this kid for real?

"No, there's no party," Ciel answers.

"I'm not keeping you from anything, am I?"

"Well-" I begin, crossing my arms and pressing my shoulders against the backrest.

"No, of course not," Ciel interjects, cutting me off and shooting me a filthy look. I don't know what he's mad about, I wasn't going to say anything untoward. Well, I wasn't planning to anyway.

"That's good," Finnian nods, feebly pushing himself away from the bookcase.

"What are you doing here?" Ciel asks, trailing behind him.

"I came to see you," he responds.

"You said but why?"

"I missed you," he hiccups. Ciel's eye shoots back over to me and he instantly frowns upon seeing my amused grin.

This is awkward but it's not without hilarity and charm. Your drunken ex pays you a visit as you're in the middle of being blown by some bloke you just met earlier this week. I don't know much about Ciel, but I know this is not how he normally behaves. I suppose this explains the overall innocence of Finnian's questions, he would never expect such behaviour from Ciel.

"You, uh, you missed me?" Ciel repeats with slight surprise.

"I missed you," Finnian reiterates with a nod. He rests himself against the bookshelf again, probably finding the small bit of exertion much.

"He missed you, isn't that sweet?" I muse with a sarcastic smile. Yes, I'm well aware I'm being a dick but my ability to maintain good gentlemanly behaviour is starting to wear thin.

"You had to be drunk to see me?" Ciel ignores my snide comment.

Finny's head turns to Ciel as his lips curl into a small smile. Hands grip the edge on the side of the bookcase allowing him to try once more to find his footing and make his way over to us. This kid does not look good. His face is pale and he's holding the air in his lungs as he staggers and sways his way from the bookcase. My money is on him losing the contents of his stomach all over the posh Persian area rug, probably procured from a Sotheby's auction to add insult to injury.

Taking a few hesitant steps towards Ciel, who hasn't moved from the middle of the room, Finny makes it over to him. A big smile streaks across his face, completely pleased by the fact he's made it that far.

"Ciel," he begins just before his knees buckle, sending him crashing down to the floor.

"Finny, are you okay?" Ciel rushes over to him and I join him, bending over and slipping my hands under Finny's arms to lift him back up to his feet.

"Mate, are you all right?" I check, keeping him upright and steady.

"I am tickity boo," he snickers in amusement, tittering on until he turns to face me. After studying my face for a moment, his brow scrunches into a stern scowl. "Who are you?"

"Sebastian, Ciel's friend." I reiterate.

"Sebastian, Ciel's friend," he repeats to himself and then snorts. "But Ciel doesn't have any friends."

"Ta very much," I catch Ciel grumble under his breath.

"Come on; let's get you to the couch," I propose, putting his arm over my shoulder to drag him towards the couch. "He needs to sober up," I surmise, dropping him. Finny falls over face down and then erupts into a fit of muffled laughter.

"How do we do that?" Ciel wonders.

"Do you have any coffee?"

"Ciel doesn't drink coffee, only tea." Finny mumbles into the seat cushion.

"I'm learning so much about you tonight," I chuckle.

"Aside from coffee what else can we do?" Ciel offers, rolling his eye and my remark.

"Let's get him some water," I suggest, it's the best thing for him anyway.

"I'll get a glass; can you watch him?"

"Worry not, he'll be fine," I nod. Ciel hesitates for a moment; his eye darts to Finny still lying flat on the cushion and then back to me. "What? You don't trust me?"

"No, it's not that," he attempts to justify his reluctance. Taking a seat on the armrest and folding my arms across my chest with an arch in my brow, I observe Ciel fidget his way out of this. "Fine," he begrudgingly agrees.

After a heavy sigh and muttering something I couldn't catch under his breath, Ciel strops off into the kitchen leaving Finny and I uncomfortably alone. Glancing over, I see him staring at me with a broad grin plastered on his face. Why is this kid so damn smiley? I've been three sheets to the wind before but I don't remember being cheerful about it, in fact quite the opposite.

"So," I begin, not knowing what I'm about to say but hoping my mouth will lead me in a direction my mind can follow.

"Who are you again?" He interrupts me with a hiccup.

"Sebastian," I reply.

"I remember now," he nods, trying to recall out initial introduction and each subsequent one. Deciding to give up remembering me in any detail, Finny shakes his head and holds out his arms only to start flailing them around. "Bollocks," he grunts, trying to levitate upright.

Making another attempt to sit up, he kicks his legs out for leverage, hitting me square in the chest. For a scrap of a lad, he's got a powerful kick.

"Do you need some help?" I gasp, completely winded and pounding my fist against my chest.

"Please," he flaps his hands out for me to take. Clearing my throat to stable my breathing, I reach over and pull him up. Finny positions himself on the couch, placing his feet on the floor and scooting closer to me. He stays like this for a second just before toppling over. I grab his arm to pull him back to me. "How do you know Ciel?" He questions me with a hazy-eyed grin.

"I don't really. He came to my show this evening with his mate, Alois." I answer truthfully. Well I've never been one to lie and it is what happened.

"Alois! I miss him," he enthuses, slapping me on the back. The blow is so hard it nearly launches me off the armrest. I guess Ciel got the friends in the break up. "What sort of show?" Finny interrupts my thoughts.

"I'm in a band."

"Oh, well that sounds like fun," he grins.

"It can be," I shrug.

Going quiet, Finny closes his eyes and sways from side to side before humming a familiar Top 40s track from a boy band, something you'd hear oozing out of the speakers at some shit club in Soho.

"Can you sing?" he asks, turning to me.

"I can," I nod.

"Ciel can't sing, he's pretty tone deaf," Finny giggles. "He doesn't like a lot of music either, just classical."

"I heard he plays the violin?"

He hums. "He's so good at it. He used to play for me sometimes."

"Did he play professionally?"

"Nah, Ciel hates being on stage. You should have seen him when he tried to act, _hi_ -larious!" He laughs. "We did Hamlet in school once and they gave the lead to Ciel who slaughtered it."

"Oh dear," I chuckle, my mind races trying to envision my miserablist on stage.

I suppose at the end of the day, as pissed conversations go, this isn't so bad. The kid seems pleasant enough. I can see why Ciel would go for someone like him; it's like a counter balance yin and yang thing. A chirpy bright and shiny ray of sun verses, well, a miserablist.

This intrigues me.

I know opposites attract but they seem like such polar opposites I can't imagine what they would ever have in common. I'm not sure Ciel has anything in common with me either but I was hoping to find out. In fact, I want to know more about him. Finny seems like a free spirit, Ciel seems to enjoy order and for everything to be clean. Clean lines, organised shelves with hardly anything on them, hell, even the books were alphabetized by titles.

What does he like? What puts a smile on that poker face of his? It's been a long while since someone has interested me so much. It isn't just the curiosity of what he'd be like in bed, although, I admit it's how I got here. Since meeting Ciel earlier this week, I couldn't wait to get my hands on him. Now I want to finish what we've started, especially since we were so close.

Settle down Michaelis, how about we get the mind out of the gutter when sitting next to the ex. Not to mention, Ciel seems like trouble. Not just any type of trouble, he's the trouble akin to the high proof Moonshine Bard brought back from his last visit to Tennessee. Sure, it's smooth going down but it burns like fuck coming back up.

"Hey, can I tell you something?" Finny asks, breaking the silence.

"Sure."

"I came here to get Ciel back," Finny admits with a twinge of sadness in his voice.

"Okay," is all I could utter. For the first time in a very long while, I'm speechless.

"That's so clichéd it's painful," he groans, taking no notice of my sudden silence. "I had to get squiffy to come here and tell him that, I don't know what I'm doing." He pauses to look at me. "Do you think… you think he'll take me back?"

Aw shit kid, I was just starting to like you. Finny stares at me with bright wide eyes waiting for a response but I don't know what to say. I'm pretty sure Ciel would take him back in a heartbeat but that's not conducive to my end goal. I'm in a dilemma here, as much as I wouldn't want to stand in the way of these two being happy together, I also am a selfish bastard. Sorry kid, cut your losses and go home. Then again, there's nothing worse than thinking you're someone's second choice, which I probably would be at this moment in time.

"I'm sure you left him for a good reason," yes, that seems like an appropriate response, in a hedging my bets kind of way.

"I did but I can't stay away from him."

"Why?"

"Because I love him. You know what that's like?"

Actually, I don't. I've never been one to love anything other than music, it just doesn't appeal to me. People get together; they part and in this case get blattered and fail to make good decisions, like come over to the exes flat in the middle of the night in a state.

Finny stares at me hard, narrowing his eyes in order to give him a better read of my quiet.

"Is he okay?" Ciel asks from behind, handing the glass to me.

"He's fine," I say, taking the glass. Ciel's eye stays on Finny who's currently trying to burp either _God Save the Queen_ or the alphabet, maybe both. "He did share some things about you," I grin and his jaw drops. "Is it true you played Hamlet in a school play?"

"Oh God," he cringes. "It wasn't my choice, I assure you."

"He was pretty bad," Finny adds. Letting out an amused chuckle at Finny's remark, I turn to him and press the glass into both of his hands.

"Here mate, drink this," I nudge the glass to his lips.

"I wasn't that bad," Ciel defends but it only makes us both smile.

"No, he really wasn't all that bad," Finny agrees into the glass before taking a sip of water.

"Oh?" I smile.

Gulping down another mouthful of water, he shakes his head.

"No, there were moments where," he stops, thinking for a moment. Rolling his eyes to Ciel with a faint smile creeping onto his lips, he regards him. "There were moments where you couldn't take your eyes from him."

I can't help but follow his gaze and nod. There is something about Ciel, which is quite captivating. It's in the way he stands, resting his weight on his hip. The ever present dissatisfied pout on his lips and his overall haughty demeanour. I've just met him but I know when he smiles, it's rare and when he does, it's special.

"I think I understand what you mean," I agree as I continue to study him. Damn it, why am I always drawn to trouble? I need to learn from my mistakes.

Looking back at me, Ciel snorts with a frown to dismiss my comment but then he looks away. I definitely need to learn, however, as I catch the slightest of rouge on his cheeks, I realise he's a mistake I'm ready make and I mentally plan on picking up some antacid from the shop on the way home.

With a weary nod, Finny finishes the water and hands the empty glass back to me. We remain quiet for a moment, there is nothing further to add to the conversation and strangely, the silence isn't uncomfortable. However, the peace didn't last long, Finny jolts to his feet whilst covering his mouth.

"I'm going to be sick!" He declares before darting down the hall to the bathroom. Ciel looks at me imploringly and I shrug.

"Look, I'll help sober him up but I draw the line at holding your ex's hair back," I quip with a grin. Ciel's mouth drops open to reply with what I can only imagine to be an equally snarky retort but he's quickly hushed by the slam of a door.

"He's in the bathroom," he comments, coming over to me.

Ciel sits down at the other end of the couch, resting his side against the armrest. Rubbing his forehead with his fingers, he doesn't look at me, choosing to keep his gaze on the floor.

"Does he normally get like this?" I wonder, rolling the empty glass between the palms of my hands. Staying mute, Ciel responds with a little shake of his head. "I wonder what's made him do it tonight."

"I'm wondering the same thing," he sighs, still not bothering to throw a glance in my direction. "This isn't like him, Finny never drinks."

"At all?"

"No."

"Now I really want to know."

"This isn't funny Sebastian," he huffs.

"I didn't say it was," I reply flatly.

"You know you can go now; I can handle things from here." He says, flopping back on the couch. Grabbing a throw pillow, he holds it against his chest burying his face into it.

"Actually, I'm staying."

Ciel's head snaps up and to me. "Pardon?"

"You're probably going to need help with him, he seems like a handful." I try to reason.

Ciel's face softens and his shoulders slump, letting the tension ease.

"No, that's all right, I'm just going to get him into bed and let him sleep it off."

"And then?"

"What do you mean?"

"After you get him into bed, what will you do?" I clarify.

"I'll probably go to sleep too."

"With him?"

"What are you insinuating?" He snaps, dropping the pillow to the side.

I smirk. "I suppose it's my turn to be jealous."

"Do you think I'm going to take advantage of him in this state?"

"Or he'll take advantage of you."

"Finny isn't like that, besides, what business is it of yours what we do?"

"In my experience, when alcohol is involved, it's easier to fall back into familiar habits."

"I don't like where this conversation is going."

"I just want to remind you that he left you, not the other way around."

"Are you trying to annoy me?" he spits.

"Not at all but let me ask, if he told you he wanted to get back together, would you?"

"I don't know," he answers honestly and I feel like it actually is the truth. "I don't think he'll want me back."

"Why not?"

"He left me for a reason and those reasons are still reasons, I haven't changed."

Humming with a nod, I cross my arms and lean back against the edge of the couch. A calm quiet falls over the room and we strangely relax into it. I know the truth but it's not my place to say it, besides, if we can get Finny to bed then maybe he'll think differently in the sober hours of the morning.

"Ciel?" A weak Finny calls out from the hall. Neither of us heard the bathroom door open again but we wait for Finny to make an appearance. The kid must be struggling; he emits a dull whimper followed by a thud against the wall.

"I'd better help him," Ciel sighs, tossing the pillow aside and standing to his feet. He quickly scurries towards the hallway with me in tow. Seeing how skilfully Ciel scaled a gate earlier this evening, there is no way he'll be able to carry Finny. Once we get there, we see him bracing himself against the wall, holding on for dear life.

"Do you feel better?" I chuckle.

"I feel empty," Finny responds with a little nod.

"Yeah, that happens," I smile. Standing next to him with a slight bend at my knee, I grab his arm and sling it over my shoulder to hold him up. This is becoming a habit and not one I wish to continue. Letting out a soft moan, Finny squeezes his arm around my neck, taking with it all the blood supply I had going to my head. How's this kid so damn strong? "Which way is the bedroom?" I manage to choke out.

"A little further down the hall and to the right," Ciel instructs with a sharp motion of his head.

I'm pretty sure this isn't the rock star lifestyle Bard bangs on about. Dragging a half-cocked kid down the hall towards what I'm now realising is Ciel's bedroom. Passing the threshold, I don't even bother to take in my surroundings, I just slug along to the bed. Slipping Finny from my shoulders, he inelegantly falls back onto the mattress like a lifeless doll.

"I guess that's good enough," Ciel shrugs, staring at the motionless body sprawled out. "He doesn't look like he's breathing," he whispers, leaning in for a better look.

"I'm sure he's just asleep," I dismiss. My job here is done and I think it's time to call it a night. My shoulders ache, I'm tired and ready to leave.

"How do you know?" Ciel stops me.

"Do you seriously think he's dead?"

"It happens; can't you get alcohol poisoning?"

"I don't think that's the case here," I reason with as much calm as I can muster.

"Are you a doctor now?" Ciel snorts with a scowl.

"You don't know what your friend does?" Finny mutters into the blanket as he starts to stir. "He's in a band," he adds just before rolling over onto his back and covering his face with his forearm.

"Are you all right?" I ask and see his head shift as he nods under his arm.

"It's bright in here," he groans.

Going to the bedside table, Ciel turns on the lamp and I switch off the main lights.

"Better?" I ask.

"Yes, thank you," he replies. Dropping his arm to his side, he manages to open his eyes a little. They flutter with heavy lids until finally settling to close again. We both watch his chest rises and falls with each weighty breath he takes. Perhaps he's finally starting to fall asleep?

"Ciel," he mumbles. " _Ich bin für mein Verhalten leid. Bitte sei nicht böse_."

"Finny, you know I don't speak German, what did-"

" _Don't worry about it, Ciel isn't mad at all so just get some rest,_ " I interject in my most polite German. So, Finny speaks German when he's drunk, well this kid is certainly interesting. Ciel looks at me with a creased brow in bewilderment.

" _Ich liebe dich, Ciel_ ," Finny finishes on a yawn before finally succumbing to sleep. Ciel blinks slowly, staying mute. Even if he didn't speak German, it's hard not to know what that meant. His eye travels over to me but I head off anything he could say.

"Come on, let's get his shoes off and get him into bed," I suggest and Ciel agrees with a simple nod.

We both make quick work of taking off his shoes and draping the duvet over him. Standing upright, I arch my back out to stretch, feeling my spine pop back into place. Running his hands through his hair, Ciel glances over at me.

"Thank you for your help, Sebastian," he grumbles more to the floor than to me.

"Not a problem," I smile. I suppose I should go and make my way back to the club. In my haste to follow Ciel, I left everything there and I'm sure William is lurking around waiting for my return.

"It's getting late."

"Yeah," I agree, heading towards the door and into the hall.

"You, um, you can stay here if you'd like?" He offers. Well that was unexpected.

"I can if that's what you'd like?" I grin. His cheeks burn a bright red and he covers it up with a sharp trot past me and into another room. I trail behind him, standing behind as he stops in the middle of the room. My hands ghost down the sides of his arms but he side steps my advances.

"You can sleep here, there's an en suite just there with towels and everything if you need to freshen up or whatever."

"All right but won't you join me? A shower is much better when there's someone else to apply the soap." Well you can't blame a guy for trying.

"I don't think that's a good idea," he dismisses with a near bolt for the door. "Have a good night, Sebastian," he wishes before closing the door behind him, leaving me completely alone in the dark.

"Good night," I reply.

I'm not sure what I'm still doing here, he could have let me go and it would have been the end of this sorry night but instead, he's let me stay. I guess I could always go, there's nothing actually keeping me here. Reaching into my pocket, I pull out my mobile, squinting to look at the bright screen. It's three thirty-seven in the morning and an unsurprisingly large amount of texts. One from Bard letting me know he's packed up my stuff, I can get it from him later, and the other forty-nine messages are from William. I guess I'll stay here after all, he'll only come looking for me at my flat and if I'm not there, he can't find. At least he stopped before reaching fifty, I guess that would be too many.

Letting out a heavy sigh, I amble over to the bed, unbuttoning my shirt as I go along. Ciel must be conflicted or maybe it's just guilt. His ex is in the next room and he interrupted me having my wicked way with Ciel. Ah, my familiar friend, trouble. I must have subscribed for it because it's always here.

"Sebastian?" A whisper comes from the other side of the door. Before I could answer, the knob turns and the light floods in, blinding my eyes before the door shuts, covering the room in darkness once more. "Um, I meant to say there's shampoo in the shower," Ciel informs me. He doesn't come over to me; he just stands by the door. With each soft, measured step, I move closer to him, hearing his breath stutter the nearer I get.

"Is that all?" I inquire, feeling my chest rumble with a growl.

"No, well yes, I just thought you should know."

I'm in front of him now, the heat of his body radiates onto my bare skin.

"That's a pretty flimsy excuse," I chuckle.

"What do you mean?"

"You don't need a reason to be in here, just admit you want me and we'll go from there."

"It wasn't an excuse," he huffs attempting to convince me but of course, I don't believe him. I'm close to him now, the fabric of his shirt brushes against my chest. Reaching out, I feel his arms in the dark, grabbing his wrists and pulling his whole body on mine. He takes over, slipping his hands under my unbuttoned shirt and spreading his fingers across my bare back.

Using my weight, I push into him, slamming him against the door, and pinning him. I breathe out into his ear, giving his hips a firm squeeze, making him whine softly.

"You want me?" I ask, keeping my voice firm.

"Yes," he answers me in a hoarse breath.

"Good."

My lips trail down from his ear to his neck, licking his salty skin along the way.

It's not the kiss itself, the mere act of lips touching another pair of lips, that's far too simple. It's the feeling that washes over me, the nervous anticipation which turns into assured greed. The need to taste, to suck, and then devour him. I can feel his pulse quicken and how it beats a rhythm into my chest. The pop of our lips as they separate only to join again. His skin is flushed and fiery under my fingers but I can burn back. Plump soft lips swell as I playfully nibble at them whenever he parts them to whimper into my mouth.

Everything about him is demanding, from how he eagerly consumes each kiss to his nails digging into my back, pulling me onto to him. It's as if we both would parish if the slightest gap were to be found between us. I lean into him, taking all he has to offer. My hand moves from the curve of his hip to the top of his thigh and then further still. He's so hard against me I start to salivate, desperate to taste him again, to finish what we started earlier but before I can drag him down to the floor, Ciel stops me, turning his head to the side.

"Sebastian, I can't," he says suddenly, his voice is panting and low but he's resolute. "Finnian's in - I can't."

"I understand."

He rests his head on my chest, shaking to catch his breath. Nails release my skin as fingers trail down my spine only to leave me completely.

"This was a mistake," he adds on a heavy sigh. I want to say something, do something but before I could think of what, Ciel pushes me away. With a quick turn of the knob, the door cracks open flooding the room with light once more. I don't see him leave but I know he's gone with the click of the door shutting.

And with that, he leaves me, standing alone and in the dark.


	11. Never Gonna Give You Up No Matter How You Treat Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will kill you dead Sebastian.

The door closes and I press my back into it.

What am I doing? Mistakes were made. My arm raises a little but drops back down to my side, resigned in the fact that I’m not going back in.

What is it with Sebastian? He makes me lose all sense of myself. What I know to be right and everything I know is wrong seems to get muddled into this swirling mess.

Pushing away from the door, I make my way back down the hall.

This is all just so bloody perfect. Finnan said he loves me, granted, it was in a state of a drunken stupor but he still said it. Those words came pouring out of his mouth. Then there’s Sebastian, he wants me, he’s made it perfectly clear, and he knows I want him too, which is why I’m making a hasty escape from his bedroom. If I had stayed a second longer, I’m not sure what I would have done with him. That said, my current feeling is wishing for a sinkhole to appear and swallow me whole. Send me to hell because that’s where I belong, fast tracked like a debauched heathen.

Seeing as though that’s not going to happen any time soon, I figure I better try and sleep off whatever is left of this night. I’m exhausted, all of this is starting to wear me down but where to go?

My bed is occupied, Sebastian’s in a spare room and the others? No, never mind. Dragging heavy feet down the corridor and back into the front.

What fresh hell have I managed to get myself into?

Keeping Finnian here to sober up, that makes sense. Having Sebastian stay because it was late makes sense too, although, I guess he could have just as easily gotten a taxi back. Actually, I could have called down to the concierge and arranged for a car to take him back wherever he needed to go. I’m sure they do that sort of thing all of the time, of course they do, that’s all a part of their service. Now he’s here, Finnian’s here, I’m here, and I make good decisions.

Throwing myself back against the couch, my lungs cave with the release of an exhale. I know the couch seems extreme to some but I’m used to sleeping here anyway. I don’t find my bed to be particularly comfortable anymore and it’s starting to wear unevenly. Finnian slept on the right whereas I slept on the left, a habit I’ve continued even though he’s gone. In an attempt to remedy this, I’ve explored many different options of sleeping in the bed. For instance, I’ve tried to spread out, lay vertically, sleep in the middle or give up and sleep on the couch. None of those options were comfortable or conduce a good nights’ rest.

Not that I really planned on having a good nights’ rest tonight. I know tomorrow, I will have some explaining to do and I’m sick to my stomach at the thought of it.

Maybe it won’t be so bad. Finnian always liked to get up early and Sebastian’s a musician. Aren’t they the sort who tend to sleep in late? Swallowing hard, my throat works to keep down the bile that’s starting to rise. I’m well aware this is wishful thinking and the only thing I can really hope for is for morning to come soon and this can be over with a quickly as possible. I don’t know what morning will bring, Finnian has never been drunk before let alone hung over so hopefully he’ll just be as confused as he was earlier this evening.

This isn’t a good state to try and think in, I need to attempt to relax and calm my mind. Pulling my mobile from my pocket and sitting it down on the coffee table in front, I grab a throw pillow and hug it to my chest. My body drifts to the side before hitting the seat cushions. With each deep breath I draw in, I try to exhale the evening. In with the good thoughts, out with the bad.

“What utter bollocks,” I grumble to myself, closing my eyes to allow my mind to shut off and succumb to sleep.

 

…

 

 

The doorbell sounds out like a hurried alarm, making my hand reach for my phone to either switch it off or send it flying across the room. Realising it’s not my phone I push myself up and make a frantic mess of rearranging the throw pillows back into place and folding the blanket I grabbed from the side at some point in the night, draping it over the edge of the armrest.

Keys hit the lock and I have a few seconds to straighten up and make myself look more presentable. The latch turns and the door opens followed by several pairs of footsteps just before closing. Great, he’s brought along Lizzie and Sieglinde as well, I suppose. Alois can be so rude sometimes, how hard could it be to ring ahead?

Hands run through my hair before being stuck on the lace of my eye patch, fantastic, I’ve left that on. Now there’ll be some kind of bruising around my eye like I’ve been in some ruddy fight like a common chav. Taking in a deep breath to settle my emotions, I sit and wait for them to come in.

Alois strolls into the front room with a knowing grin on his face, Lizzie follows him wearing a wide-eyed look of concern on her face, and Sieglinde is just behind her looking suspicious but smiling, nevertheless.

“Don’t say it,” I stop any asinine comment from pouring from his smug lips. Shrugging his coat from his shoulders, Alois tosses it onto the plush cream decorative chair along the side of the bookshelf.

“Say what? I was just going to say that I’m really enjoying whatever you’ve got going on,” he smiles.

“What are you on about?”

“You look like _Heroin Chic’s_ dumpy younger sister, _Meth Mistakes_ ,” he clarifies with a giggle.

“Oh well, ta very much,” I slump back and sulk. Lizzie pushes past him to stand in front of me drumming her pink lacquered nails against her hips.

“I’m really quite cross with you, Ciel,” she fumes. “You were meant to ring when you got in.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry, Lizzie.” I agree, hanging my head in shame. I’m not really sorry, however, I know I have to convey how suitably chastised I feel in an effort to humour her out of my flat. Her green eyes scan my face and she drops her hands to her sides.

“Are you feeling better?”

“Much,” I nod.

“You don’t look it, gnome,” Sieglinde digs. My brow knits as my eyes narrow at her.

“Well I do, so let’s leave it at that, okay?” I snip and she responds with an over articulated pout of her lips and folding her arms across her chest as she flops down beside me uninvited. It seems like they’re here to stay and I can’t think of anything fast enough to urge them to be on their way.

“Last night was fun though,” Alois comments, taking a seat on one of navy blue crushed velvet chairs opposite the coffee table. Lizzie joins him, perching on the arm rest and crossing her legs at the ankle.

“It was fun, wasn’t it?” she agrees.

“I liked the music,” Sieglinde joins in. “I especially liked the two fingers thing.”

“That sounds naughty,” Alois chortles, making both Sieglinde and Lizzie frown.

“Why do you always have to be so vulgar?” Lizzie chides. Alois shrugs and falls back into the chair, dangling his arms over the sides like a ragdoll.

“I don’t _have_ to be, sweets,” his flippant response sends a sharp elbow into his chest delivered by Lizzie. Alois gasps, falling forwards and rubbing his chest.

“Saw that coming,” Sieglinde says with a wry smile.                     

Before anyone can say anything further, a door opens from down the corridor. I swallow hard, completely forgetting what happened last night and now I’m worried over who is coming down the hall. A rapid heartbeat sends blood rushing to my head making my ears throb under the pressure. All eyes travel from me to the end of the corridor as staggering footsteps approach us.

Sebastian steps into view in nothing but black boxes, which hang low on the sharp curves of his hipbones. The back of his hand stifles a loud yawn before blinking ruddy brown eyes land on us gaping back at him.

 

“Morning,” he greets us, clearing his throat.

“Morning,” the trio salute him in unison.

“I wasn’t aware Ciel had company.”

Lizzie arches her brow. “Yes, one would suppose we could say the same thing,” she finishes in an even tone. 

Shifting in my seat, my body feels a slight unease at her remark. We all look at each other for a moment, but that moment drags on for the longest, most awkward moment I have ever felt.

“Would anyone like a cup of coffee?” he offers.

“Ciel doesn’t drink coffee,” Lizzie says with a grin. I’m not sure I like this, her face is placid but there still feeling of unease.

“I remember, no coffee. Tea then?” Sebastian suggests.

“That would be lovely,” she answers for us.

“Then I shall go do that,” Sebastian nods.

He barely takes two steps into the front room before we hear another door open and then shut. 

“Ciel, please tell me you’re being burgled right now.” Lizzie warns, sitting up from her perch. The chance to come up with a witty retort has gone but I know I have to say something to explain the situation. A dull moan comes from the corridor and all eyes go back to me as a stunned silence falls over the room. I feel like I’m in front of a firing squad, only no one was kind enough to lend me a blindfold, so I am forced to see the carnage head on.

“Ciel?” Finnian calls out to me from the corridor and I shudder, feeling my soul ascend from my body.

“Holy shit, is that Finny?” Alois surmises in a loud whisper.

“I make good decisions!” Is all I can manage. Oh yes, I am witty.

“I’ll make that tea now,” Sebastian proposes, inching towards the door.

“Good idea,” she agrees as he escapes into the kitchen, leaving me alone in front of the firing squad.   

Sieglinde tugs at my elbow to pull me closer to her.

“I am impressed,” she begins in a whisper.

“What?”

“You dirty gnome, I did not think you had this in you.”

“It wasn’t like that,” I hiss in protest but she lets me go, only to give me a knowing smile. 

Lizzie lands a sharp slap to my side, where did she even come from? I didn’t hear her move. Recoiling into the cushion for reprieve from another as she hovers over me. Picking up a throw pillow, she wallops me on the side and I press myself into Sieglinde in the hopes she would want to avoid any friendly fire spilling on to her girlfriend.

“What is wrong with you?” she admonishments between slaps, dropping the pillow on my head. Sieglinde squirms to the side and pushes me away.

“Do not use me as a shield, dirty gnome,” she pokes my arm.

“He was pissed, okay?” I answer and Lizzie’s face goes blank.

“What do you mean he was pissed? Finny doesn’t drink.”

“And I may never again,” he interrupts her. We both look over to see a Finnian slumped over Alois’ shoulder. His hair is matted and his face looks hallow, complete with bags under his eyes. 

Alois manages to drag him into the room, Sieglinde and I get up from the couch to assist, along with Lizzie, who holds his waist steady. Finnian is shaky on his feet, each step wobbles on their way back over to the couch. The four of us take great care in lowering him down, resting his head back. 

“How do you feel?” Alois asks, standing upright to stretch his back out.

“Awful.”

“Sounds about right.”

Finnian struggles to lift his head whilst his bloodshot eyes search the room. 

“Did Sebastian go home last night?”

“He’s in the kitchen making tea,” Sieglinde replies in a soothing tone. A small smile crosses his lips before his head drops back again.

“I could murder a cup of tea,” he says before letting out a dry cough. “I’m glad he’s still here, I wanted to apologise for last night.”

“What do you remember from last night?”

“Truthfully, I don’t remember much.” Finny goes quiet for a moment and then burps.

“Finny, that’s disgusting,” Lizzie wrinkles her noise as the smell of last night’s excursion permeates the air.

“All I remember is the pub, coming here, you and Sebastian helping me into bed.”

“Together?” Sieglinde wonders without the slightest trace of innocence in her question.

“Of course not,” I retort. Honestly, what does she take me for?

“That’s it?” Alois asks.

“That’s it.”

“Nothing else?” I press.

“Should I have?”

“No, I suppose not,” I mutter with a shake of my head. Nothing else other than you said you loved me.

It’s something he wants to forget, of course it is or else he would have remembered his reasons for coming here. Well don’t I look like an idiot. 

“Anyway, what are you all doing here?” he asks.

“Turns out my new boyfriend is in a band, we saw them last night.”

“Oh yes, I remember that bit,” Finnian nods. “Sebastian is in that band.”

“Yup,” Alois confirms.

“That’s how you both met, right?”

“Uh, yes.” I lie.

If you have never felt the stare of four people on you in a state of frustrated confusion burning a hole into your skull, then you haven’t - I want to say lived but at this moment, I’m praying for my imminent demise. 

“And you’re all here because?” Finnian wonders.

“Ciel left early last night because he was feeling poorly,” Lizzie answers honestly.

“And Sebastian came with you?”

“I guess,” I finally respond. Everyone holds their breath.

“He’s such a good friend,” Finnian smiles, closing his eyes.

There’s something to be said about Finnian’s naivety. I’ve never needed it to come in handy before but I’m certainly going to take it in this instance. 

Sebastian re-emerges from the kitchen with a tray stacked with my finest china patterned tea cups and matching saucers, a pot, milk jug and a small bowl of sugar cubes. Where on Earth did he manage to find those tongs? He strolls into the centre of the room and upon seeing him, Lizzie’s eyes widen and she claps her hands together in delight. 

“How lovely,” she gushes.

“I have perfectly good mugs you know, you must have seen them when you were rummaging through the cabinets for those.” I grumble.

“I saw the mugs,” he grins, sitting the tray down on the coffee table in front of the couch.

“Come on Ciel, this is much more civilized, isn’t it?” Lizzie tries to convince me. 

I grunt a response and moving past him to sit down next to Finnian. Sieglinde joins us, sitting down next to me and kicking her feet out. Her dress leaves little room spare on the couch, the overflowing petticoats puffing up around her like black clouds keeping her afloat. I catch Sebastian watching me with a strange and inquisitive expression and I reply by leaning back, folding my arms over my chest.

“Well?” I motion to the tea.

“Well what?” Sebastian stares at me.

“You went through all the effort of making it, you may as well serve it,” I instruct.

“Is he always like this in the morning?” Sebastian asks the group.

“Worse,” they all reply in unison as if it were scripted.

Setting out the saucers, Sebastian carefully places a cup and teaspoon on each. After asking each person how they take it, he begins being as dutiful as a butler and making each of my guests a cup of tea. There is an absolute ridiculousness to this, I’m not sure if he’s trying to curry favour or annoy me but either way, I am not amused. My palms burn, opening them and glancing down to see the indentation my nails have left in the skin, it seems I’ve been clenching my fists a little tight.

“How do you take your tea?” he asks me, manoeuvring his head to catch my attention.

“A suggestion of milk with three sugars,” Finnian responds on my behalf.

“A suggestion?” Sebastian repeats with an arch in his brow.

“He like milk in his tea but he also likes his tea to taste of tea.”

“Is there a colour chart I can follow?” Sebastian jests.

“You joke but there was one,” Alois snorts.

“We made him get rid of it,” Lizzie adds.

“You all make me sound like I’m fussy,” I dismiss with a pout.

“You are fussy Ciel,” Finnian chuckles, taking a small sip of his tea. After he swallows it down, his whole relaxes and he smiles. “This is really good.”

“There is nothing nicer than a brew after the night before,” Alois agrees.

Sebastian hands me my cup and I exam the liquid before waving it under my nose. I must admit, it does smell good. 

“Do you approve my lord?” He asks with a little smile.

“It’ll do, I suppose.” I answer. Looking back at Sebastian, I realise he hasn’t made anything for himself. “Are you not drinking?”

“I prefer coffee in the mornings.”

“Do you also prefer clothes?” I mutter into my cup before having a sip.

“Well actually, I prefer to be naked,” he fires back, causing me to choke on my tea.

“Well if I had pearls, they’d be clutched.” Alois titters, fanning Lizzie with his hand. She frowns in return, swatting his hand away.

“Ciel, do you have a fever? Your face is red.” Sieglinde wonders, touching my cheek with the back of her hand.

“What do you prefer to wear, Ciel?” Sebastian asks with a sardonic smirk.

“Pyjamas, like any other civilised person.”

“That’s no fun, wearing nothing is quite freeing. You should give it a try.” He pauses for a moment, running his thumbs under the elastic of his waistband. “I could always come by and show you how it’s done.”

I will kill you dead Sebastian.

“See how what’s done?” Finnian chimes in.

“Nothing,” Lizzie, Alois and Sieglinde interject and Finnian nods.

“Okay,” he smiles and then puts the empty cup and saucer down on his lap, holding it still with his hands. “Um, Ciel, do you think we could have a moment alone?” he requests with a shy softness in his voice.

The group look at each other and Lizzie is the first to take the lead. She reaches over and collects the cup from Alois, placing it down on the coffee table.

“I wasn’t finished,” he protests but Lizzie ignores him.

“We have to get going, I’ve got an appointment.”

“What appointment?” Alois frowns, crossing his legs and leaning back in the chair to stay planted.

“You know, that one appointment with this is none of your damn business now get up,” she growls, pulling him from his seat.

“All right already, no need to pull on the Dolce with your man hands, I’m coming.” He hisses, twisting out of her grip and striding over to collect his coat. Sieglinde slides off of the couch, handing her cup to Sebastian and then bounces over to her waiting girlfriend, taking her hand into her small fingers.

“You guys didn’t need to leave so soon, I could have spoken to Ciel in the kitchen.” Finnian says, placing the cup and saucer down on the coffee table, next to Lizzies.

“Nonsense, you guys should chat. We only came to check on him anyway.” Lizzie flashes a charming smile before eying Sebastian and letting out a little chuckle to herself. “Will you actually ring me later please?”

“Yes, Lizzie,” I sigh.

“Bye gentlemen, Sebastian, lovely to see you again. Thank you for the delicious tea.” She waves before ushering the others down the corridor. The door opens, then closes and I slump back into the couch cushions.

“I suppose it’s my turn to leave, let me put my clothes on.” Sebastian heads off towards the guest room.

“Just a minute,” Finnian stops him. “I didn’t want to say this in front of the others.”

Sebastian looks at me, shifting in his stance. Finnian leans forward, putting both hands down on the edge of the couch. He hesitates a moment and then pushes himself up. There’s a slight sway before he straightens up and then clears his throat.

“You’re not going to hug me again are you?” Sebastian wonders with an arch in his brow.

“No mate, I just wanted to say thank you for last night, I must have been in a right state.”

“It’s really okay, I’m happy to have been able to help.”

“Well thank you anyway, I hope we can be good friends.” Finnian grins, holding out his hand. There is no trace of animosity or embarrassment in his words, just a strange kindness, which had Sebastian look over at me before he takes his hand.

“Sure, we can be friends.”

“Good friends?”

“Uh, yeah?” Sebastian agrees, trying to pull his hand back from Finnian’s strong grip. “I need my hand back now mate.”

“Oh yes, sorry.” Finnian releases him.

“I guess I’ll get dressed now,” he says before making what I am now going to believe is his trademark quick exit.

Sighing, I stand up and collect all of the accoutrements from the tea and put everything on the tray. As I do this, I can feel Finnian’s gaze on me, watching me tidy up.

“I should apologise to you too,” he breaks our silence. Keeping my back to him, I stop for a second but decide not to say anything. “I didn’t mean to come see you in that state.”

“It’s quite all right Finnian, no need to apologise.” I shrug as I make the sugar bowl fit between the slim space next to the stacked cups and the teapot.

“This place still looks the same,” he notes.

“You said that last night.”

“Did I? Oh.” Finnian clears his throat again. “When I said I didn’t remember last night, I lied, well part lied.” He steps around my side to stand in front of the table. “I remember saying that I loved you.”

Picking up the tray and holding it in both of my hands, my eye stays firmly on the cold brown liquid in one of the cups. My mind searches for something to say in reply but it can’t seem to make any words form a coherent sentence in an elegant way.

“Do you still love me?” Not suave or elegant but it’s what I can get out of my mouth.

“Of course I do Ciel, I will always love you. I just can’t be with you, not right now.”

“Then why did you come here?”

“Has Sebastian said something?” He looks at me with large eyes.

“No?” I reply and he nods, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

“I came because, I don’t know, I was pissed and I needed to see you.” He answers honestly. “I haven’t seen you in two weeks.”

“That’s because you broke up with me,” I snort. Finnian’s eyes drop to the floor and his shoulders hunch.

“But does that mean we can’t still hang out and be friends?” He mumbles more to himself than me.

“I don’t know, you tell me.” I shake my head with a sigh. Finnian raises his eyes and looks at me, they glitter a little as though he’s about to burst into tears but doesn’t.

“I still want to be your friend Ciel, will you let me be your friend?”

“Friends?” I repeat, a little unsure of what that even means for us.

“Yes, right now, I just miss my friend.”

“Okay, we can be friends.” It isn’t so much conceding to this request as it is trying to keep him in my life.

When we broke up, I severed all ties with Finnian and fought every urge to call him but then again, he never called me either. Perhaps he was simply giving me space, whatever that means. If there is a chance of keeping him around, then perhaps there is chance for more?

“Oh, that’s great!” He smiles and then looks at his watch. “I have to go but can I call you later? Maybe we can get a coffee sometime this week and catch up?”

“Yeah, that sounds great.” I agree. “Do you want me to ring down to the concierge and get you a taxi?”

“I’ll be fine, I think I can manage to get to Earl’s Court from here and it’s a straight shot home.”

“Where are you living now?”

“I found a flat over by Putney Bridge with Mey,” he runs his hands through his hair.

“How is she?”

“She’s okay, hates her job but that’s nothing new.”

We both share a chuckle at the thought of poor Mey. They’ve been friends longer than we were but I could never understand the appeal. She’s nice enough but incredibly clumsy. Whenever she was due to come round, I’d make a quiet habit of hiding all of my favourite and most expensive antiques. It’s an expensive lesson you only learn once. 

After a moment, Sebastian appears from the corridor, fully dressed in last night’s outfit. I gulp as my eyes land on him. I just saw him in nothing but boxers a moment ago but when he’s dressed, everything is accentuated. Delicious dark features, absolute sex appeal and the memories of last night come flooding back.

“I should get going,” he says coming into the room and over to me, taking the tray from my hands.

“You don’t need to leave on my account, I have to go myself,” Finnian informs him.

“You’re quite all right, apparently my manager has lost his shit completely and will phone the police if I don’t make an appearance in the studio in an hour.”

“That’s so cool,” Finnian enthuses.

“It was,” Sebastian says on a sigh. “Any way, it was nice to meet you, I’ll probably see you again.” He goes into the kitchen with the tray.

“Well, I should go now but coffee later?” Finnian purposes.

“Yes,” I agree with a nod.

He doesn’t say anything further, just bobs his head and moves towards the corridor. I’m not sure if I should walk him out or not because my feet remain glued to the spot. The front door closes and my body rocks forwards, as though released from a spell.

“Friends eh?” I hear Sebastian say from behind me. Ignoring him, I go to the couch and fall back. “That’s a mistake, you know. Exes can’t ever be just friends.”

“Sage wisdom from the eavesdropper,” I remark.

“Maybe but it comes from experience, believe me. Someone always gets hurt and it’s never the person you think it is.”

“Well maybe you just weren’t able to make it work.”

“Maybe,” he shrugs, coming over to me and standing right in front.

“Are you really leaving?” I ask with a slight pout on my lips, not really eager to be alone so soon.

“Unfortunately, I really do need to be at the studio.” He smiles, hovering over me. My brow scrunches as my displeasure over his departure makes itself known. “There’s my miserablist,” he grins, cupping my cheek in the palm of his hand. “Will you miss me?” he says with the sweetest, devilish glint in his eyes.

“Of course not, I was just hungry and thought that as you liked playing butler earlier, you could make me something.”

“I’ll tell you what, next time, I will make you whatever you fancy and serve it to you in bed. Will that please you, my lord?”

“There will not be a next time,” I brush him off, moving my face away from his hand. Sebastian stands up and pulls his shirt down.

“If you insist, but you’re missing out.”

“Hardly.”

“I was talking about my eggs benedict.”

“So was I,” I retort.

Walking around the table, Sebastian starts to head towards the corridor to leave but then stops, turning back to me.

“Since you’re now taking applications for friends, would you be adverse if I applied?”

“You want to be my friend?”

“No, I don’t.” He says sharply. “I want you Ciel and if this is how I get you, then I’m willing to.”

“You want me?” I repeat.

“I want you, I thought that was clear last night?”

I can feel my face start to burn but there’s nowhere to turn and hide.

“I-”

“Don’t worry about it now, I can wait.” He smiles before walking out of the room.

The door opens and closes once more and now I am completely alone. Sitting up and casting my eye over the room my mind starts to buzz and whir. What does it mean to be wanted? Is it purely physical with him? He’ll bed me and then what? On to the next, I suppose.

I know there may not be a chance for Finnian and I to try again but if he wants to be friends, I can work on that. Just because it didn’t with Sebastian doesn’t mean it won’t between Finnian and I, whatever, what does he know? What does anyone know?

A twinkle from my phone sounds out and I feel around for it, finally finding it tucked between the cushion and armrest of the couch. Looking at the screen, it’s a message from Finnian asking me to coffee tomorrow. My heart pounds in my chest with a nervous and childlike excitement. Shut up Sebastian, I know what I’m doing and I don’t need your advice. If anyone gets hurt in this, it’ll be me and it’s a chance I’m willing to take right now.


End file.
